


Promises Kept

by EmPoweredBeing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Falling In Love, Mature Harry Potter, Minor Character Death, POV Hermione Granger, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:29:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 73,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28322394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmPoweredBeing/pseuds/EmPoweredBeing
Summary: When a promise is made, a promise should be kept. Minerva makes Hermione a promise that Hermione intends to hold her to. Hermione makes the same and between the two of them, they gently ease into a friendship that runs deeper than each other knows in a time of war and darkness and distrust.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Minerva McGonagall
Comments: 291
Kudos: 336





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: Good afternoon. Merry Whatever you celebrate, or Friday, if that's your jam. I attempted a little thing for Christmas and ... well it's not a little thing anymore. We're coming up on ten chapters and we're not finished yet. So, yey for that I guess lol Hope you enjoy.**
> 
> **Thank you to Lib McGranger for her help beta-ing and cheerleading and all the things!**
> 
> _Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended._
> 
> -0-

After the months of school they'd already had, Hermione was very much ready to leave Hogwarts for a while, even if it was only to Grimmauld Place. Between Ron's stupidity and Harry's broodiness, she felt like she could scream and it was this that sent her outside the dark house, away from Mrs Weasley's smothering, and into the rather overgrown garden. 

They would leave for The Burrow in a few days, so they could have a proper Christmas party but for now, she was stuck at the former Black residence. The only escape was the musty library full of dark curses and darker themes.

"Oh," a voice disturbed her solitude. "Miss Granger, I do apologise."

"Oh," Hermione said quickly. "No Professor, please don't. I just needed some air."

"Quite," Minerva chuckled. 

They stood in silence for a while before Hermione turned to look at their Transfiguration Professor.

"You look so tired," she muttered before she could stop herself. She immediately opened her mouth to apologise, but instead, the woman laughed.

"Oh, Miss Granger, you would not believe how true that is."

"Can you not tell him you need a rest?" Hermione asked, figuring she was already in for a penny. "Surely you can't be as careful as you need to if you are that tired?"

The Professor smiled sadly but didn't answer. Instead, she took out her wand and cleared some of the overgrowth and nodded Hermione forward past the bare overhanging branches of the willow tree.

"Oh that's," she looked around at the little secret space beneath the tree, with a bench and an old, decrepit fountain that once would have looked quite lovely. "This house makes no sense sometimes."

"Would you like to sit?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"I would," Hermione smiled. 

"How has _your_ year been going ?"

Hermione laughed but shrugged nonchalantly.

"Rough," Hermione muttered. "Harry is hurt and moody and in deep mourning still. He has too much on his plate and a horrendous sense of saviour syndrome. Ron is," she sighed. "Being an idiot."

"I have noticed his assignations with Miss Brown. That must hurt?"

"Ha," Hermione chuckled. "Not in the way you think." She sighed. "You have fallen into the trap that most people have, Professor. Assuming that Ron and I are _meant_ to end up together?" 

There was an awkward silence as Professor McGonagall looked at her carefully.

"You are correct and for that, I apologise."

"Don't," Hermione shrugged. "Although you usually read me better than this?"

"I am tired," Minerva said, the corners of her mouth twitching. "And we have not managed to find the time for tea in a long while."

"Honestly the worst part of this damnable war."

"Agreed," Professor McGonagall sighed. 

"Are you coming to the Christmas Party?"

"I," she hesitated. "Had not intended to, no. Christmas is," she sighed. "Difficult for me. I have plans for the actual day, but I tend to avoid parties at this time of year"

"That's a shame," Hermione muttered, though she adored the candid revelation. "I had hoped you'd be there to save me from Mr Weasley's harmless, but endless questions about Muggle artefacts."

Professor McGonagall smiled properly and Hermione was reminded of that little warm feeling in her belly whenever the Professor did so.

"Then I must," the Professor said finally.

"Only if you want to, if it's too uncomfortable -"

"What time?"

"Two on the 23rd. Late lunch, alcohol, probably a Quidditch match?"

"Oh, then I shall definitely attend," she chuckled.

"For the Quidditch?" Hermione queried wryly. "Or the alcohol?" The Professor smirked but did not clarify. Hermione merely watched her for a moment. "Are you really okay?"

The Professor was right in saying they hadn't had time to take tea together for a very long time. Between the toad-woman whose name she refused to even think, then the return of Voldemort and nearly losing Harry at the Ministry and being hurt herself, she and Professor McGonagall had only seen each other in class.

"I am, Miss Granger, thank you."

"Hermione?"

Minerva smiled.

"Hermione. I am very much recovered. But," she said suddenly, turning to face her. "What about you? Poppy mentioned you were injured as well?"

"Oh," Hermione said awkwardly. "I'm fine. It was," she sighed. "Well, okay, it _was_ bad. They could not determine what spell was used as I'd silenced him before he cast it, but," she shrugged. "What's another scar, right?"

The Professor's face fell.

"I -" Hermione, this time, turned in her seat and watched as the Professor picked at her thumbnail. "Some scars are more haunting than others."

"Some -" Hermione hesitated. She let that warm feeling in her belly guide her hand and covered the Professor's hands with her own. Feeling the cool skin, she whispered a warning charm and watched the Professor's tremulous smile. "Some are a show of strength. Of resilience?"

"My nightmares would disagree with you," the Professor whispered.

"Mine too," Hermione shrugged, grinning when their eyes met.

"We are a pair," Professor McGonagall nodded. She turned her hand over and squeezed Hermione's, but didn't pull away. "Perhaps a Christmas party is exactly what we all need."

"I think so, Professor."

"My dear, if I'm going to call you Hermione, you'd better call me Minerva, don't you think?"

"Well, I'd be honoured, but you calling me by my name is not an automatic assumption I should do that too."

"Please do so, when we are in private."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled. "Minerva."

"Just so," Minerva whispered. "Now," she said, checking a small, delicate silver watch on her wrist. "I must be off and you should go back inside. It is cold and though the protections on this house are extensive, I would not spend too much time out here. It is my experience that if there is a weakness in a ward, it is often in the garden."

"I'll remember," Hermione said, getting up and offering her hand to help Minerva. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I must be," she muttered. "I will be," she amended as Hermione opened her mouth. "I promise."

"Well, a promise from Minerva McGonagall is one I shall hold on to."

Minerva smiled and her arm twitched before something crossed her face that Hermione couldn't read and she clasped her hands behind her back.

"Take care, Hermione," Minerva said, almost desperately.

"I will," Hermione promised. "Although I'm going to see you in a few days, aren't I?"

"Yes," Minerva nodded. "But a lot can happen in a few days."

"May I?" Hermione asked, opening her arms in an offer of a hug.

"Seeing as it's Christmas," Minerva chuckled, her long arms wrapping around Hermione as her arms did the same.

Hermione sunk into the embrace and breathed deeply as they held each other. She frowned as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Blinking them away she pushed away the weird, overwhelming feelings that she had no name for. Minerva smelled of peppermint and parchment and ginger and though it was nothing she'd ever put together, it was so comforting, she couldn't help but hold on for a little longer than she knew she should. 

Minerva didn't let go either, though.

"Take care," Minerva whispered, pressing a kiss against Hermione's head and disappearing into the house without another word. 

Hermione stood rooted to the spot, her temple tingling where she'd felt those lips caress her skin and came to a shocking but not altogether surprising revelation.

She had feelings for Minerva McGonagall.

-0-

"Whatcha doin' 'Mione?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied absently, telling the truth. She'd been staring out of the window into the garden while Mrs Weasley told someone off in the kitchen.

"What's up?" Ginny asked, sitting beside her.

"We're at war, isn't that enough?"

"You know what I mean," Ginny said quietly. "You seem," she sighed. "Down. Is it Ron again?"

Hermione laughed finally and tore her eyes away from the spot beneath the willow tree she now considered her own.

"When will everyone realise I'm angry at Ron for thinking with his -" she winced. "Well. I'm not attracted to him or anything, despite everyone thinking I should be. I love him Gin, as a friend. But I couldn't ever imagine being with him."

Ginny, to Hermione's surprise, laughed. "I'm not like that."

"I always told George you were gay."

"Wait," Hermione gaped. "How did you," she shook herself. "I mean, what do you -"

"Hey," Ginny said, sobering immediately. "It's okay you know. It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?" Hermione whispered.

"No! Why should it?"

"I dunno," Hermione shrugged. "I," she groaned. "I'm not sure I realised properly until recently. I mean, I definitely don't love Ron, like that, but I hadn't realised until -" she bit her lip.

"Until what?"

"Gin," Hermione whined. "I," she groaned again. "Do you promise not to tell anyone? At all."

"I swear," Ginny said easily. 

Hermione warred with herself for a while and dropped her face into her hands.

"I think I've fallen for someone."

"That's great!" Ginny smiled. "Who is it? Wait, shall I guess?"

"You won't guess," Hermione sighed. "It's not anyone you'd think."

"McGonagall," Ginny said without hesitation.

Hermione stared at her, her face grew hot and her stomach revolted in horror.

"Wait!" Ginny said, grabbing her as she tried to flee. "Wait, it's ok."

"It's not okay! She's a teacher."

"So," Ginny shrugged.

"She's -"

"Your equal in every way," Ginny smiled. "Everything you could want in a partner."

"Partner?! Ginny!"

"Stop panicking for a minute and think about it. If anyone could make that work, it would be you and her."

"No," Hermione said immediately. "I am not thinking of her like that."

"Hermione," Ginny said gently. "What about living with her? Buying furniture together? Reading? Cooking dinner?"

"Ginny," Hermione whispered, her chin wobbling. "I can't."

"Because it's perfect?"

"Yes," Hermione breathed. 

"Well, now we have an even better reason for you to figure out how the fuck we're gonna kill Baldy and get on with our lives."

The change in seriousness shocked Hermione so much that she burst into laughter and leant tiredly against her best friend.

"Thank you," she whispered as they chuckled together. 

"No problem. Also," she giggled. "Pretty sure she's loaded too, so you've got that going for you."

"GINNY!"

The noise drew the boys into the room and Ginny squeezed Hermione's hand before challenging them to a game of Gobstones that ended with them all playing, laughing and enjoying their evening together.

-0-

"GEORGE! FRED!"

The thudding of footsteps on the stairs woke Mrs Black up and the portrait screamed obscenities while they jumped to the floor as if nothing had happened.

"For goodness sake boys," Mrs Weasley groaned, helping Hermione and Ginny close the curtains on the portrait. "Now, you four," she said, indicating that she meant Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. "We'll be going across the road to the park before we take a Portkey. Fred? George? You can Apparate from the top step."

"I'm not Fred."

"Sorry George."

"Wait," Fred said, winking at Hermione as he met her eyes. "Yes I am, never mind Mum."

"For the love of Merlin. Go. Home. Now."

"Alright woman, keep your hair on."

They disappeared from the top step with a crack and Hermione and Harry hung back while Mrs Weasley fussed around Ron and Ginny. 

"You alright?"

"Yeah?" Hermione frowned, turning to face him. Without saying a word, she read the truth in his eyes and growled.

"I asked her. Please don't get angry with her."

"She promised."

"Yeah but you were going to tell me anyway, weren't you?" Harry asked, pointedly.

"I don't know! I only realised yesterday, I don't even know how I feel about it yet!"

"Yes you do," he said gently. "You always have and, well, I think it's awesome." He glanced over to Ron. "He's my best mate, but he's not right for you."

She looked sideways at him and sighed.

"Thank you."

"You gonna do anything about it?"

"Come on, not you too," she groaned. "We're in the middle of a war! Who knows what is going to happen. Between what we have to do with you and," she made a face. "School, and the Order? Also, that's not to mention her," she winced. "Occupation."

"You haven't seen the way she watches you when you're not looking."

"What?"

"She watches you, just like you watch her. I don't think you realise how much she's," he searched for the word. "Affected by you."

"Don't, Harry," she sighed. "Please."

"Alright, but I think you've got a chance."

He wrapped his arm around her as Mrs Weasley shuffled them forward and out of the door. The walk over the road to the park was pleasant. Despite the cold, winter day, the sky was clear, for once, and the sun was warm in their faces. Hermione's head was spinning from the revelations she'd come to and from the knowledge that both of her friends not only knew her innermost thoughts but also supported her acting on them. 

It was as ridiculous as anything she'd ever heard to imagine that ever happening. Minerva McGonagall was a powerhouse. A Professor. And she was nothing but a student with a crush. She would push those feelings aside so she could remain friends with the woman. Perhaps, in time, this inconvenient crush would fade and they would continue as they did before this.

"Hermione!"

She blinked as Harry grabbed her hand and she just managed to touch the Portkey before it disappeared.

"You alright 'Mione?" Ginny asked as they landed outside The Burrow's wards.

"Yes, sorry. My mind was somewhere else."

"Constance Vigilance," Mrs Weasley muttered, ushering them inside the boundaries. 

It was colder down in Ottery St Catchpole but Hermione appreciated the frigid air to bring her to her senses. Mrs Weasley was right. She needed to get over this and to make sure she was paying attention to her surroundings. If nothing else, she'd promised Minerva that she would be careful and so she would. She checked her wand was where it was supposed to be and fell in step with her friends.

"Harry! Ron, Ginny!" George yelled from the front door. "Quidditch!"

The boys whooped and Harry ran to the house to get his things where he'd stashed his broom. Hermione followed Ginny, declining an offer to play Keeper, and insisted she'd just watch. She settled herself under a tree near where they were playing and tried not to think about anything at all as she watched them play.

"Watch out!"

A bludger Fred had charmed himself turned suddenly and headed straight for Harry, who only managed to duck at the last minute. Ginny screamed as it hit her arm and she slid from her broom.

"Gin!"

Hermione rushed to her friend and helped her down from her broom where Harry had managed to catch her. The bludger had been disabled by Fred and they rushed over as well.

"Oh bloody hell, Mum's gonna kill us."

"Hermione can fix it," Ginny muttered. "Can't you?"

Hermione hesitated, but then figured she might as well try.

"Go on 'Mione. Bet you can."

"I will attempt it," she said, cutting off Ron's begging. "If not, I'll be the one to tell your Mum."

"That is why we love you, Hermione," George grinned.

"Alright, don't move," Hermione sighed, recalling the books she'd read about healing over the summer. She performed the spell and then checked her work carefully afterwards for any residual pain or aching. Ginny, however, was marvelling at her.

"You're amazing, you know that, right?"

"Well," she chuckled. "I'm just glad it worked. I'd still maybe get Madam Pomfrey to look at it."

"I will," she grinned.

"KIDS! Dinner!"

They raced back to The Burrow and Hermione got caught up in the excitement of the impending Christmas party as they ate dinner and gathered around the fire for hot chocolates and Mrs Weasley's famous Christmas mince pies. By the time that Hermione realised that she'd managed not to think about Minerva McGonagall, it was late. She trudged up the stairs with Ginny and got ready for bed, falling beside her friend with a sigh.

"You know," Ginny whispered. "It's okay to like her."

"Gin," Hermione groaned. "It's not. She's a teacher."

"Harry reckons -" she paused as Hermione picked her head up and glared. "Yeah ok, but he asked me outright and I wasn't going to lie to him."

"You promised."

"It's not like I told anyone except Harry." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway," she said, quickly. "He reckons she's not disinterested."

"Ginny," Hermione almost screamed into her pillow. "Have you never met the woman? We don't know her! I don't even know if she's gay!"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters!"

"A woman like her?" Ginny scoffed.

"What the hell does that mean?"

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"God, you're so funny. I just mean she's intelligent and she's accepting. She's not gonna be an asshole about it, is she."

"That's what I mean!" Hermione nearly squeaked. "I don't know her."

"Well, is she coming to the party?"

"Maybe," Hermione winced.

"That's a yes," Ginny grinned, getting far too much enjoyment out of Hermione's uncomfortableness.

"I asked her to come. She said she would."

"Mhmm. Don't think she's ever attended before?"

"Shut up, I'm going to bed."

"G'night," Ginny called jovially.

Hermione rolled her eyes again for good measure and got under the covers. She lay perfectly still until she heard Ginny snoring softly. 

Turning onto her back, she did as Ginny had asked her on the first day that she'd made the realisation herself. What _would_ it be like? To be with _her_? To live together, to cook dinner, to read together, to live in a little cottage, with a little garden, in a little village out of the way of anybody.

What would it be like to _love_ Minerva McGonagall?

She didn't know, but deep down inside her? Quietly, in the dark? Hermione was pretty sure she wanted to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hope you're all enjoying it! It's not technically finished yet, but I have eight chapters finished and we'll try for a chapter every few days. Thanks, as ever, to the wonderful Lib McGranger for her beta-ing/cheerleading/general awesomeness.**
> 
> _See disclaimer, Ch1._
> 
> -0-

According to Ginny, the Weasley Christmas party had never been so popular. It seemed like everyone from the Order had been invited and once Charlie and Bill and Fleur had arrived, the party was in full swing.

Hermione was enjoying herself right up until Mr Weasley spied her standing with Harry and Ginny, laughing at something Fred had said.

"Ah, Hermione, just the person I needed to see."

"Oh," Hermione sighed, putting on a brave face. "Mr Weasley, Happy Christmas."

"Yes yes," he smiled, nodding expectantly. "I have here, a list. I wondered if you might," he trailed off but she plastered on a smile and nodded. "Excellent." He produced the list from his jacket pocket and nodded to the kitchen table. "First, what is the function of a punger?"

"A what?" Hermione asked.

"Um," Hermione frowned. He looked at his list again. "A -" he showed her.

"Oh, a plunger," Hermione chuckled. "It's for unclogging pipes. It creates -" She really didn't want to explain a vacuum. "Movement in the pipes and removes the clog."

"Excellent. And a tinder opener?"

"No, a tin opener. It's a device that helps muggles open tins, um," she frowned. "Cans of things. Fruit and vegetables etc. are often preserved in cans."

"Capital," he giggled, making a note. "Now," he said seriously. "Harry could not answer me this. What exactly is the purpose of a rubber duckie?"

"I -"

"Hermione."

Her heart sped up as and stopped all at the same time as the new voice reached her. She swallowed and turned to face the woman who's voice had so much power over her.

"Hi," she breathed.

"Hello," she smiled. "Arthur, I'm going to steal her away for a moment, you don't mind, do you?"

Mr Weasley stuttered for a moment before agreeing and Hermione felt a strong arm around her waist and was whisked away from Mr Weasley's questions and into another room.

"Thank you," Hermione gushed. 

"You are most welcome," Minerva chuckled. "How many had he managed?"

"Only two but the first was a plunger and the next was a rubber duck."

Minerva chuckled and Hermione felt her breath catch as the woman's green eyes sparkled with mirth.

"If it's any consolation, it happens to us all."

"He didn't ask you as well?" Hermione gaped.

"He did," Minerva smiled. "Only once though."

"He's so much braver than I thought," Hermione grinned.

"You think it takes bravery to talk to me?"

"One has to be a little," Hermione grinned cheekily. "Plucky to do so, yes."

"Oh really," Minerva said, her eyebrow hitching on one side. "Plucky?" Hermione's lips were the ones to twitch this time. "What does that make you?"

Hermione laughed and realised Minerva was still in her cloak and hat.

"Oh," Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry. Talk about stupid. Here, let me take your cloak."

"Hermione, if there is one thing you are not, it is stupid."

"Even so," Hermione shrugged. "You rescued me so gallantly, and I left you in your cloak."

"Oh, I'm gallant now?" Minerva smirked.

"Lord," Hermione felt her face heat up so much she actually put her palms on her cheeks. "You are -"

"Teasing you," Minerva smiled. "Relax. I thought we were at a party?"

"We are," Hermione laughed. "But I'm making an idiot of myself."

"Nonsense," Minerva smiled. "Come on," she nudged Hermione gently with her hip. "I'm sure Molly has a bottle of whiskey around here somewhere."

"Whiskey? Molly?"

"No," Minerva chuckled. "You're right. I will probably have to make do with something less appealing."

"I can get you a Butterbeer?"

"I detest the stuff," Minerva admitted. 

"I'll find something else then," Hermione grinned. "Be right back."

She made her way through the crowd of Order members and Weasley family members until she reached the kitchen. Ginny was standing talking to Tonks and Hermione tried not to catch their eye. She knew she'd failed when Ginny appeared in front of her, leaning on her elbows on the table and grinning lecherously.

"Don't -"

"Hi 'Mione," Ginny grinned.

"Ginny."

"Is she here?"

"Who?"

"So yes."

"What do we have to drink?"

"Butterbeer."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Something else."

"Think Mum has some Schnapps somewhere."

"No, I don't think so," Hermione turned up her nose.

"Bloody hell," Ginny laughed. "Come look then."

She pointed to the pantry door and opened it as Hermione joined her.

"Holy shit Gin," Hermione laughed as she saw all the drinks Mrs Weasley had purchased for the party. 

"I know. I did tell her she went overboard."

Hermione looked through the bottles until she found something she thought would work. She grabbed two bottles and grinned at Ginny, before disappearing back into the crowd. She made her way back to where she'd left Minerva, in the corner of the living room, and paused as she was met with empty space. She turned around and looked through the faces nearby until she felt it. The barest whisper of something by her ear and she grinned, turning slowly back to the space.

"Ginger beer?" she asked the space. "I'm afraid the beer part is a bit of a misnomer. It's non-alcoholic."

"What on earth is it then?" Minerva asked, reappearing with a shimmer. "And how did you know I was here?"

"Intuition," Hermione shrugged. "A feeling?"

"That's impressive, Miss Granger," Minerva smiled.

"Oh," Hermione said suddenly. "I didn't get you a glass."

"Come now," Minerva smirked. "You imagine I've never drunk from a bottle?"

"I -"

She couldn't say anything else as Minerva's lips wrapped around the top of the bottle and took a swig of her drink. Hermione nearly swallowed her tongue. She turned around to pretend someone had bumped into her and then realised she would need to find a different excuse when it was clear there was no one behind her. 

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, sorry, thought I'd stepped on something," she winced. "Um. Do you like it?"

"I do," Minerva smiled. "Good choice."

"Good," Hermione nodded. "Good."

She tried not to stare as Minerva took another drink, but she knew she was caught as Minerva smiled smugly and licked her top lip.

"Would you like to join me outside?"

"Yes," Hermione said, a touch too quickly. 

She hesitated as their eyes met and just as she was about to look away, a touch of rose appeared on Minerva's cheeks and Hermione paused. A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her of what Harry had said, but she discounted it immediately. Something had just flashed across Minerva's face that she couldn't read. But it wasn't  _ that _ .

"Shall we?" Minerva asked quietly.

"Lead the way," Hermione nodded. 

She could feel her heart beating so quickly she almost couldn't catch her breath, but she took a deep breath and slid her arm through Minerva's. They slipped out of the house and walked quietly beside each other out into the grounds of The Burrow. The cold day had warmed up considerably and as they came to a pause outside the garden, in the wild-space that the Weasley had on the Eastern boundary, Hermione stepped away and took a deep breath of crisp air.

"You are clearly a lover of winter?"

"I admit I do prefer the cold," Hermione smiled. "It's," she sought the word. "Clean, somehow. You can feel the edges of it. And, less poetically," she grinned as Minerva laughed with her. "You can always get warm if you're cold. When you're hot, you can only take off so much."

As she realised what she'd said, she blushed and Minerva laughed at her gently.

"I must admit, I do prefer the summer," Minerva muttered. "The smell of the lavender and then later, the heather? The softness of the grass underfoot? The babbling streams, cool and crisp and refreshing?"

"Well my attempts at poetry were pathetic," Hermione smiled. "And wherever it is that you spend your summers, I clearly need to visit," Hermione said with a sigh. "It sounds heavenly."

"The wilds of Scotland are some of the most beautiful places on this Earth, Hermione," Minerva muttered. "And I think I would be glad to show you, one day."

"After the war, I suppose," Hermione sighed.

"Yes," Minerva frowned. "Then."

Feeling like she'd broken something, Hermione moved back to Minerva's side and slipped her arm back into the crook of Minerva's.

"I'm sorry."

"Why should you be sorry," Minerva said, shortly.

"Because I've upset you."

"No," Minerva said vehemently. "I am not upset with you. I am upset that we are once again in a place that we should never have come to. That we are fighting a war with childr-"

"Hey," Hermione said, interrupting. "I'm not so much a child and I'm glad to fight." Minerva scoffed. "No," Hermione said, soothing the anger. "I know what you're going to say. That I can't possibly understand and you  _ were _ right. I didn't. Not until last year. I didn't understand the feelings that accompanied it. Or what I would need to become in order to fight. But I do now."

"The Ministry was -"

"No, not that -"

"HERMIONE! McG!"

Hermione sprung apart from Minerva, biting her tongue to stop herself from telling Minerva that the Ministry was not the place where she had realised she was fully capable of taking a life. But rather a little before. When she'd seen that awful woman order her goons to shoot at Hagrid and then - she shivered. She remembered the slow-motion of Minerva's seemingly lifeless body floating through the air surrounded by red light. It was a horror that had followed her since. Like a dark and silent ghost just out of her reach. Not able to vanquish it, but not quite brave enough to face it either. That, perhaps, was better left in her own mind.

"Hermione?"

She crashed back to earth from her head and realised that she was standing beside Ginny and Minerva, who were both looking expectantly at her.

"Sorry," she shook her head. "I was miles away."

"Help me persuade McG to play Quidditch with us?"

"Me?" Hermione asked, then regretted instantly as Ginny's eyes grew ominously amused.

"If there's anyone that can persuade Professor McGonagall to do something, it's you, Hermione."

"I -" she glared daggers at her best friend and tried not to look at Minerva. "That's ridiculous," she said, rallying valiantly. "I doubt Professor McGonagall would do anything without actually wanting to do so."

"Quite right," Minerva said gently, amusement shining from her eyes. "And yet in this case, perhaps I will make an exception."

"Wait," Ginny said. "What. Are you serious?"

"Who else is playing?"

"It's 3-a-side and a Seeker. So just us. Bill won't play so we're one short. There's only one bludger so Fred and George will play one each."

"And where are you playing?"

Ginny grinned.

"Out the back, over the hill, away from the party."

"What do you think, Hermione?"

"I think yesterday I had to fix Ginny's broken arm after the bludger went wrong and," she spluttered. "As if, realistically, I could tell you what to do."

"Come now," Minerva smirked. "Where's your sense of danger."

"Danger?" Hermione squeaked.

"I thought we decided you were plucky," Minerva called as she turned.

After she spluttered for a further few moments, Hermione had finally decided on a retort, but it was too late. Minerva was already on her way, following Ginny across the yard and into the fields beyond. Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed, a sinking feeling in her gut.

Something was about to go horribly wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: I tried to get to updating once a day but it's not going to work out that way. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep it fairly regular, though. Thanks, Lib McGranger for the second pair of eyes.**
> 
> -0-

As it happened, Hermione was wildly unprepared for Minerva McGonagall, in Transfigured jeans and a buttoned shirt, astride a broom. She ducked and weaved through the air like one of her friends. The laughter and the yelling were cacophonous but, unlike most other times she'd watched a Weasley quidditch match, Hermione was very much invested in this one.

Though she'd since lost track of the score, it seemed as though Minerva and Ginny were winning and Charlie and Ron were not. As usual, when things weren't going his way, Ron was sulking and Ginny was taking great delight in teasing him for it. Generally, it was Hermione that told her to knock it off, but the pace of the game was too furious for Hermione to get a word in edgeways. To top it all off, the Snitch had been seen no less than four times so far and Harry had, uncharacteristically, missed it all four times. Honestly, Hermione thought that perhaps he was trying to teach Ron a lesson, but as it was she was enjoying the game too much to care for his motives.

Ginny had scored a further two times and Minerva had saved one of Charlie's three shots. It seemed to be worse that Ron was playing keeper - the position he'd won fame and glory for at school - his little sister was picking him apart without mercy. Charlie wasn't exactly patient with him either and while Ronald was her friend, she did wish he was more grown-up sometimes. Maybe Charlie's sometimes harsh instruction was exactly what was needed.

Minerva, however, was like the wind. At one point, Ginny had thrown her the quaffle to avoid a well-aimed bludger and she'd tucked it under her arm and weaved through the boys to drop it through the hoops with a wry grin.

"You'll have to be quicker than that Charlie," she teased as she flew past him. She scored a further four times before Hermione remembered that Minerva had been one of Gryffindor's best Chasers back in the day. She watched the girls - and yes it was bizarre calling Minerva that - pick apart the rest of them until Harry finally spotted the snitch again and everyone turned to watch. 

"That's how you fly!" Ginny called.

Harry screeched to a halt, the Snitch in hand, and grinned triumphantly. That grin turned to horror and Hermione followed his eyes to where Ron had grabbed George's bat and slammed it into the bludger towards Ginny.

"GIN!"

It happened in slow motion. As bad things inevitably do. The bludger took the hit and flew towards Ginny, speeding up as it seemed to realise its intended target.

Harry dropped the snitch and started moving, even though Hermione could clearly see that he wasn't going to make it. Ginny had heard their shout and had turned from where she was high-fiving Minerva to see what the commotion was about. As she looked sideways, she saw it and her eyes widened.

"SHIT!"

She rolled on her broom, hanging upside down so it flew over her knees, but in doing so, the bludger flew right past her and slammed into the next target who was quick to drop, but not  _ that _ quick. Someone screamed as it bounced off Minerva McGonagall's temple and she dropped like a stone from her broom.

" _ ARRESTO MOMENTUM _ !"

Hermione blinked, her breath coming too fast to be normal as she held her spell, and consequently, their Transfiguration Professor - her friend - in the air. The rage she felt in her gut was beyond anything she felt for even Delores-Fucking-Umbridge but she tamped down on it for the moment. The rest of them were dead silent as she ran forward and let Minerva fall gently onto the grass.

"Minerva?" she asked, a little desperately. "Minerva? Please?"

She checked her pulse and was gratified to feel the strong thump under her fingers. She sighed, slightly mollified that Ron hadn't killed her. She looked up, to see George and Fred staring in horror.

"YOU STUPID GIT!" George yelled, turning around and swinging his fist at Ron's head and connecting solidly with Ron's nose.

"OW!"

His face splattered with blood as George flattened his nose and Fred threw his beater's bat at his knee.

"OW! Stop! It's not my fault!"

That is  _ exactly _ whose fault it is," Charlie said, landing beside Hermione with a grunt. "Professor? Professor McGonagall?"

Hermione squeaked as she stirred.

"Minerva?" She stirred again and Hermione bent down to her ear and whispered. "Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can." A soft squeeze of her fingers made her beam. "She can hear us."

"She needs to go to St Mungo's."

A hard squeeze on her hand told her that was the last place Minerva wanted to go, so she nodded and spoke up.

"I'll take her. You guys go back to the party and make our excuses. I," she winced. "Might miss Christmas too. I won't leave her there."

"You can tell Mum, you stupid idiot," Ginny growled, smacking Ron on the back of the head for good measure. "Don't think I don't know you were aiming at me. God, why couldn't  _ you _ have abandoned us and gone to work at the Ministry and left Percy here? I hate you sometimes Ron."

Hermione waited for their voices to fade before leaning back down.

"I have no intention of taking you to St Mungo's if you are sure you don't want to go."

"No," Minerva muttered. "Not there. Please."

"I won't," Hermione said gently, her thumb rubbing over Minerva's. "But I do need to take you somewhere. You're in no position to apparate anywhere and I'm not sure Molly wouldn't take you there no matter what I say. You've probably got a concussion," she muttered. "I just hope he didn't fracture your skull."

"Got a," she winced. "Hard head. Not quite a direct hit, I did duck."

"I've read your biography. I know what happened when you were a student. I'm not going to take any chances."

"Don't," she swallowed. "Remind me."

"Minerva, I need help from someone. Tell me what to do."

"Take me home."

"Minerva -"

"Hush," she muttered. "Come closer." Hermione bent down, close to Minerva's head and frowned when nothing happened. "Look at me."

She did so and Hermione panicked as Minerva grabbed her head and looked into her eyes.

_ Legillimens _

A beautiful house with ivy growing all over the walls appeared in her mind. She saw the lane outside it, the hedgerow and the conifers leading down the rather Muggle-looking driveway.

She blinked as Minerva's hands dropped off her face and she fell back to the grass. Hermione shook her and almost cried when she didn't stir again.

"Oh bloody hell," she said, her hands shaking. "Ok. Ok, I can do this."

She took a few deep breaths and calmed down. She had taken to carrying around a little beaded bag in her pocket with a few emergency things in it. She'd had the idea after the whole Mad-Eye Moody incident; like his trunk, her bag was essentially bottomless. She checked it was still where she'd put it and drew her wand. 

"Forgive me," she whispered, brushing some of Minerva's hair off her face. She already had a mark forming on her cheek. Hermione sat beside her and pulled her onto her lap as best she could. She took a few deep breaths, then gripped her close. "Ok, we're going to do this."

She turned on the spot and disappeared from Ottery St Catchpole and appeared between two conifers on a driveway to a house she'd never been to. She sat quietly for a moment, her hand gripping her wand in preparation for whatever might spring up in defence. When nothing happened, she glanced around, realising they were very much further North than Ottery St Catchpole on account of both the temperature that had plummeted and the ominous clouds rolling in from distant mountains. Hermione eased Minerva off her knee gently and knelt beside her, checking on her once more before levitating her into the air.

She walked them up to the door and stood dithering for a moment before she realised Minerva would be the way to enter. She took Minerva's hand, squeezing it gently and placed it on the front door like she'd seen Molly do a few times at The Burrow. The door opened and Hermione pushed it open and waited for something to happen. Nothing did, and so she stepped over the threshold. Again, nothing happened as she became a little less cautious. She spied a living room and went straight to the sofa and eased Minerva down onto it. She checked over her once more and decided that she would have to, at the very least, explore the house to determine where everything was. Leaving Minerva on the sofa she looked past all the doors and found a kitchen, a dining room and a small study. The stairs at the end of the corridor led upstairs to two bedrooms and something that Hermione could barely believe. A library that extended up to a third-floor, accessible by a spiral metal staircase in the corner. It was so big that Hermione could barely contain her amazement.

Remembering that she'd left Minerva on the sofa, unconscious, she raced back the way she'd come and back down to the ground floor. 

"Minerva?"

There was a noise, but nothing she could make out the actual words, so she levitated Minerva once more and took her up the stairs. She decided that only one of the rooms looked lived in and pushed open the door gingerly. Having a crush on the woman was one thing. Putting her into her own bed was something  _ very _ different. She put Minerva on the bed and stood wringing her hands for a moment before she decided that she might very well be the one thing between Minerva McGonagall having brain damage or even dying.

"Right," Hermione nodded, trying not to panic. "Right."

The first thing she needed to do was warm up the room. She could see her breath as she exhaled and that would not do at all. She lit a fire in the small wood burner in the corner and stood near it for a while, warming up her hands. She spent those few moments trying to remember the things she'd read about treating a concussion and realised that she couldn't. She took a shaky breath, closed her eyes and tried again. Every time she felt she was getting close, Minerva's falling body filled her mind and after a while, she couldn't help the tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Oh Minerva," she whispered dejectedly. "I'm so sorry."

She went over and knelt by the bed, her head resting on their joined hands. The tears wouldn't stop and it wasn't long before she was crying in near-hysterics. She got so caught up, she nearly missed it. A soft touch to her cheek that tickled enough for her to pick her head up.

"Minerva?"

"I'm alright," Minerva muttered. "Not as bad as you think, but might need Poppy."

"How do I get her here?"

"Fireplace, downstairs," she grunted, her free hand holding her head. "Lair Y Ddraig."

"Oh, that makes sense," Hermione smiled. "Do I have to do anything to the fireplace except light it?"

"No," Minerva said, her head twitching as she tried to shake it. "Oh," she screwed up her face. "That hurts."

"I'll go now," Hermione whispered. 

"'Kay," Minerva muttered.

"Do you need anything?"

"Water?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I'll get you some."

"Thank you, Hermione."

"It's my fault you're like this," Hermione whispered. "It's the least I can do."

She was out of the room before Minerva could say anything in response and she trotted down the stairs and found the glasses and the water. Filling one, she placed it on the bannister and rushed into the living room where she'd seen the pot of Floo powder. Taking a handful, she lit the fire and threw in the powder, watching as it flared green.

" _ Lair Y Ddraig _ ." It flared once more and a disembodied voice came through the flames. "Minerva?"

Hermione knelt down in front of the fire and plunged her face into the flames. 

"Madam Pomfrey, it's Hermione Granger. There's been an accident and I," she swallowed and blinked the tears out of her eyes. "Minerva is hurt."

"Move out of the way, I'm coming through."

Hermione scrambled back and Madam Pomfrey came straight through.

"What has happened? How are you here?"

"We were at the Weasley Christmas party," Hermione said, inviting Madam Pomfrey into the hallway. "They needed one more person for the Quidditch game and Minerva decided that it might be fun."

"Fun?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "Minerva did? Our Minerva McGonagall?"

Hermione sighed.

"I should have told her not to."

"Oh, you could have done nothing to dissuade her, I shouldn't wonder."

She led Madam Pomfrey up the stairs to Minerva's room and stood next to the door as Madam Pomfrey announced her arrival. To her never-ending relief, Minerva's eyes cracked open and she managed a half-smile.

"Hello love," she chuckled.

"Quidditch, Minerva?"

"What can I say, I was inspired."

"You are a nutter."

"I've been accused before," Minerva whispered.

"Miss Granger, if you don't mind."

"She can stay," Minerva muttered. "Just let us know what we need to do. You don't need to babysit me," she smiled just barely. "I will miss seeing the babies though." 

"Minerva -"

"Just get on with it Poppy."

Hermione tried not to catch the Medi-witch's eye as she sat cautiously on the bed.

"You have a concussion," she said after a time. "Not the worst, but not something to trifle with."

"Hermione thought as much," Minerva agreed.

The medi-witch's eyes locked onto Hermione's and though she had no excuse as to why Minerva McGonagall was making decisions that didn't seem to make sense, she nodded. 

"I've not read as much on concussions as I have broken bones and I couldn't remember the incantation for the monitoring spell."

There was a long pause as Madam Pomfrey looked at her.

"Come here, Miss Granger. We shall do it together."

A soft squeeze from Minerva's hand gave her the courage to do as she was told and she stood next to Madam Pomfrey while she went over the words, the inflection and the wand movement, until she nodded for Hermione to try.

"There's no way to get this wrong, as long as you don't misspeak."

Hermione nodded and performed the spell. 

An image shimmered before them and Hermione realised they were looking at something similar to a CT scan image, like the one she'd had after falling off the playground.

"Oh wow," she said, her interest piqued. "That's," she leaned forward. "Fascinating."

Madam Pomfrey cracked a rare smile.

"I do enjoy a student who likes learning," she said appreciatively. "You can manipulate the image simply by moving your wand in an arc."

Hermione tried it and made a noise of surprise. 

"This is incredible."

"You want to concentrate on the part of Minerva's head that was hit."

Hermione was immediately aware that she was looking at an image of Minerva's brain and before she could do anything, the image zoomed in, right to the place she knew Minerva was hit with the bludger.

"Oh, that was cool. I just thought about it."

"That is," Madam Pomfrey looked sideways at her. "Very good. Now, she was hit here, you say?"

"Yes. Um, a bludger. She did duck at the last moment, I think."

"Thank Merlin for her reflexes," Madam Pomfrey muttered. 

"I'm right here, you know," Minerva tutted.

"There does not seem to be any bone damage," she pointed to Minerva's skull in the image. "But it is still early for anything else to appear. If she lost consciousness, it is worth monitoring."

"Poppy, let her do it. You need to be at home."

"I can be in two places at once."

"No, you can't. Hermione is perfectly capable."

There was a long, tense silence before Madam Pomfrey sighed.

"I'm giving in because you're right, not because I'm agreeing."

Minerva smiled and held out her hand. Madam Pomfrey took it and squeezed it gently before letting go.

"This part will pulse red if there is any damage to the brain. If that happens, I want you to get me immediately. I understand the reason you're here, but if that happens, she  _ will _ have to go to St Mungo's."

"Well then, we'll do what we can to try to avoid that."

"Put this on her, three times a day. It's Bruise Paste. It's possible we can avoid it turning inward if we can draw the bruise to the outside."

"Okay."

"These are pain potions. She is to have no more than two over twenty-four hours. Her tolerance for them is high, so they will not work quite as well as they should, but it is the best we can do."

"What about Muggle medicine. Would that interfere?"

"It does not, but I do not have any."

"I do," Hermione smiled.

"Then yes, to bridge the gaps, that would be of some help. Though she is right, she does have a hard head -"

"Oi!" 

Poppy chuckled.

"So I don't imagine she'll need them for long."

"Okay. If anything else happens, I'll get you."

"Are you staying for Christmas?"

"I," Hermione shrugged. "Might be?"

"Yes," Minerva grumbled. She had covered her eyes with her hand but she still managed to hitch her eyebrow a little.

"Hermione, would you give me a moment with Minerva, please?"

"I -"

"It's alright Hermione. I'm sure she just wants to tell me off for being so stupid."

"You were hardly stupid."

"All the same. The library is at the end of the corridor. I'm sure you can find something to your liking there."

"Thank you," she nodded. 

Hermione backed out of the room and left them to it, making her way down the corridor to the library. Despite being told she was welcome to it, she still opened the door cautiously. The light poured in from floor-to-ceiling, two-storey windows and she drew a deep breath as she took in the view out of those windows. They were in the North, as she'd imagined. There were mountains in the distance topped with snow and by the looks of the clouds, more on the way. The mountains themselves jutted out of the ground like chipped teeth and it immediately reminded her of her parents. Instead of getting a book, she sat down on the window seat and curled around her shins, resting her head on her knee. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be her parents. To say goodbye to her every September and not know anything about what was happening all year. 

Not that she didn't send letters, but it was becoming harder to find safe things to include. There was less she could tell them without explanations they couldn't understand. And now they were in the middle of a war and nobody had mentioned what would happen to them. It was something that plagued her mind constantly. Turning away from melancholic thoughts, she allowed herself a moment to imagine introducing Minerva to them as her partner. That was laughable. They were the most liberal, encouraging, supportive parents, but even they would have an issue with such an age gap. By Hermione's count, there might be as many as forty years between them.

What they couldn't know, however, is that age really didn't matter to her. As witches, she was relatively sure that they had an extended lifespan. By all accounts, Albus Dumbledore was more than a hundred years old and while he was old, he was not old like the muggle nonagenarians she had met now and again. Shaking it off again, she watched the dark clouds gather over the valley.

"Miss Granger."

She stood, almost to attention, as Madam Pomfrey's voice broke her solitude.

"Apologies," Madam Pomfrey said, less sternly. "I did not mean to frighten you."

Hermione waved it off.

"I was miles away."

"I am leaving now. Minerva's care is in your hands. Please," she stared at Hermione. "Please don't hesitate to retrieve me if you need anything. She already knows to limit her magic, but a gentle reminder would not go amiss."

"We'll manage," Hermione promised.

"Then I shall be on my way. I," she sighed. "Happy Christmas, Miss Granger."

"Happy Christmas, Madam Pomfrey."

The woman didn't move, so neither did Hermione. Indeed, it looked remarkably like she was going to say something more. Hermione realised that she wasn't sure what care she would have to provide.

"Um," she said, just as Madam Pomfrey was leaving. "Do I, should I wake her often?"

"No?" Madam Pomfrey said incredulously.

"Oh, that must be a Muggle thing? Concussion requires you wake the patient every half-hour or so?"

"No," Madam Pomfrey said, softening again. "Just sit near her and make sure she is drinking enough water, applying the bruise paste and taking pain potions. Minerva has had more than one concussion in her life, she'll know what to do as long as she remains conscious. This one is not her worst by a long shot. If her speech changes or she begins to act out of character, call me."

"Ok." Hermione nodded. "Oh, does she," Hermione winced. "Should I expect anyone visiting her for Christmas?"

Madam Pomfrey stared at her with an incredibly measured look on her face.

"No," Madam Pomfrey said. "As she was expected at mine tomorrow."

"I'm sorry."

Madam Pomfrey waved her off and turned to leave.

"Take care, Miss Granger. Please be careful. Minerva’s home is as warded as it could be, but that does not mean you are not in danger. As," she sighed. "By now you are fully aware. These are dangerous times."

"I know, and I will be. Thank you."

"Right. Take care," she smirked just a little. "Good luck."

"You as well," Hermione nodded her goodbyes but did not rush back to Minerva's bedroom.

The thought alone made the goosebumps on her arms prickle. In an effort to get Minerva the help that she needed, she hadn't really considered the connotations of that. She was now solely in charge of Minerva McGonagall's care, while fully and absolutely undone by the feelings that coursed through her every moment of every day. For now, though, she was a Gryffindor and she would prove that to anyone who cared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Good afternoon. Here we are again, worshipping at the altar of Minerva and Hermione and their slow-burn loveliness. This will not be a behemoth fic, but it's not going to be too small either. We have 12 chapters at the moment and there's a few more beyond it yet.**
> 
> **Thanks for the love you've all shown. And thanks to Lib McGranger for the help and general awesomeness.**
> 
> -0-

She knocked quietly as she arrived back at Minerva's door and heard the muffled invitation. She poked her head around the door and smiled at Minerva's drowsy but open eyes.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Do you need anything?"

"Yes," Minerva whispered. "Come," she said, patting the space beside her.  Hermione hesitated for a moment but Minerva was patient yet unrelenting. She sighed and made her way over to the bed.  "Sit down."

Hermione contemplated arguing but when she saw the mark on Minerva's face she remembered that  _ she _ could have prevented this. She did as she was told.

"You are not to blame for this," Minerva muttered.  Hermione opened mouth in argument, but Minerva held up her hand - a well-known sign from Professor McGonagall to zip your lip quick-smart or suffer the consequences. "As Poppy said, I am a grown woman. I was teasing you, back at The Burrow. There was nothing you could have said that would have dissuaded me. I made up my mind to play and had Ronald not ruined our afternoon, I dare say it would have been the most exciting afternoon I've had in a  _ very _ long time."

She fell back, her eyes closing as her head rested back on the pillow. Hermione's eyes never left Minerva's face. She knew it was not polite to stare, but she did.

Though she knew she needed to let go of this silly crush, it was so hard while Minerva was looking so beautiful. Her skin, aside from the forming bruise, was pristine. It seemed to glow, pale like the marble statues she'd seen in Italy on the trip she'd taken with her parents. And close up, her hair was just as sleek as she thought it would be but, if she looked closer still, there was a halo of whisps just around her hairline that had a tell-tale trait she could not mistake. Hermione smiled. She'd seen those sorts of whisps before, in the mirror, while she tried to tame her own hair.

"You're a woman of many mysteries, Minerva McGonagall," she said gently, in case Minerva had fallen asleep.

"I dare say you are not wrong but why pray tell, would you say that now?"

"You have curly hair!"

"I -" Minerva frowned, then winced. "You caught me," she chuckled. "I do not wear it down very often, for reasons you and I are both aware of. And when I do, it is plastered with Sleekeazy's."

"I can't imagine how it looks."

"You will find out soon enough, no doubt. Providing you're willing to stay?"

"I," she swallowed. "Can. No," she admitted. "I would like to. Do you," she looked at her hands. "Would you mind me staying for Christmas?"

"Honestly?" Minerva asked. "I would like that very much, providing you will not be disappointed if it is a little low-key?"

"Not at all," Hermione breathed. "Thank you. The Weasley's can sometimes be," she shrugged. "A lot."

"You are welcome. I have not planned much as I had intended to go to Poppy's. I imagine I will sleep for a while, but I cannot sleep like this. Would you be a dear and help me up?"

"You really shouldn't," Hermione started.

"I know, but I will only change and let down my hair and then get back into bed. Is that an acceptable bargain?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she groaned. "Come on." She helped Minerva to her feet and although she spoke a big game, Hermione could feel just how wobbly she was with her legs under her. "Easy," Hermione said. "Go slow."

"Thank you," Minerva muttered. "And for catching me, no doubt. I would have been in a worse mess had you not."

"I won't ever let you fall, Minerva."

She made a noise but Hermione had taken her to a door off to the side of the room that Minerva opened into a bathroom.

"Do you need me to get you anything?"

"I," a dusting of pink dashed across Minerva's cheeks. "My nightgown. It is on the dresser."

"Take this," Hermione said, placing Minerva's hand on the bathroom counter. "Don't let go, just in case."

Minerva smiled but did as she was told. Hermione gathered the nightgown, trying not to think of it as a nightgown and trying as hard as she could to remain professional. She was here to help Minerva heal. She would  _ not _ be perving on the woman, for goodness sake.

"Thank you," Minerva said as she placed the nightgown on the counter.

"I'll be right out here if you need me. No matter what." 

"I'll be fine," Minerva muttered. "But, thank you."

Hermione stepped back and closed the door, letting out a long breath as it did so. She looked down at her shaking hands and scoffed at herself. What a pathetic mess of nerves and overzealous emotion. 

"She was injured on your watch," she muttered to herself, turning away from the door and looking around the room for the first time. It was exactly as she'd imagined Minerva McGonagall's bedroom to be like. Dark wood and deep colours that seemed to cocoon a person. 

She spied a crystal jewellery tray and wandered that way, running her hand over the back of the chair, set before it. Minerva was not a woman for flashy jewellery, Hermione knew that already. Indeed, there were a few plain-looking rings in one of the sections that Hermione took a closer look at. Plain-looking certainly, but they weren't cheap or pedestrian. Without touching, Hermione could see the craftsmanship in them and could tell that the silver ones weren't silver at all White gold, perhaps or even platinum. In the adjacent space there were a few delicate bracelets, just as finely crafted, that Hermione could just imagine gracing those slender wrists. She reached out to touch one of them when the door opened.

"Oh," Hermione squeaked. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Minerva smiled. "Much better."

Hermione, however, was rooted to the spot. Minerva was leaning tiredly on the bathroom door frame clad in a tartan dressing gown that ended above her knees. Her hair fell around her shoulders in soft waves of curls and while Hermione tried not to embarrass herself, it was a lot to take in. She'd had seen Minerva in a dressing gown before, of course, but never one like this. And her hair  _ certainly _ hadn't looked like that.

"I took the Sleekeazy's out," Minerva said, breaking the silence. "I thought you might want to see?"

"It is," Hermione almost couldn't breathe, she was so lightheaded. "Beautiful."

"Oh," Minerva chuckled, brushing it off her face. "Well, thank you."

"I -" Hermione realised she needed to help Minerva back to bed before she blurted something inappropriate across the room and ruined everything. She rushed forward and took her arm, smiling at the look Minerva gave her.

"I meant what I said before," Minerva said once Hermione got her laying down again. "What you did, today? From stopping my descent, to Apparating us here and making it inside? That was incredibly impressive, Hermione. Thank you."

"I just knew I needed to get you help, away from St. Mungo's."  A shiver went through Minerva as Hermione pulled the covers higher up her body.  "You don't have to tell me unless you want to. I understand, as much as I can. But know that you  _ can _ , if you wanted to?"

"I," Minerva sighed. "Will tell you, I think. But it cannot be today. I am not capable of -" her voice cracked and Hermione's self-control went out of the window. She leant in the bed and ran her hand over Minerva's head.

"Shh," she sighed. "Don't think about it. I'm not taking you to St Mungo's. I promise."

"A promise from Hermione Granger is one I shall hold onto for life, I think," Minerva said quietly, echoing the words Hermione had said to her not too long ago.

"We  _ are  _ a pair," Hermione chuckled, doing the same. "Sleep, Minerva. I'll be here."

"The House is yours," Minerva muttered, already losing the battle with sleep. "There are no off-limits areas. Please make use of whatever you like."

"I will," Hermione whispered, her fingers scratching gently over Minerva's scalp.

"Oh," she whispered as she finally lost the battle with sleep. "Lovely."

Hermione kept it up for a while longer, mostly for selfish reasons, before she withdrew quietly to the hall.

-0-

Though Hermione had not had many friends in her life there had been one, in the first few years of primary school, that had spent a lot of her time snooping through Hermione's things. The friendship hadn't lasted very long. The indignity of someone looking through your personal belongings was enough to sour the interactions they had. 

Hermione felt like that now. While she was curious, she did not particularly want to rummage through anything that belonged to Minerva McGonagall. What she did want was some food. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and she felt like she might cry at some point, too. Crying was always better over some food.

Besides the horrendous emotional component, the reasons why all this had come about were appalling. That Ron would do such a thing horrified her, whether he meant it as maliciously as it had seemed or not. It only cemented, in her head, that they would have to be careful around him moving forward. He was their friend perhaps, but he clearly could not be trusted. He was too emotional, too volatile to be involved in their plans for Voldemort and Dumbledore's tasks. 

How she wished Ginny was with her.

Ginny had a knack of knowing just what to say at just the right time. She could cut through all the panic and overwhelming noise in Hermione's brain and take it down to the bare bones with barely any effort at all.  She realised she was still standing in the hallway and beat a quick path away from the bedroom and down to the kitchen. She sat down at a small but well-loved table for a breather. The cacophony of noise in her head stopped as she looked around and she couldn't help but smile. Ginny's words floated around her. 

What would it be like to cook with Minerva? 

Hermione knew now, what that would be like. This was a kitchen that belonged to someone who loved to cook. Everything was in its proper place. The saucepans were hanging from a wrought-iron frame on the ceiling, directly above the sink, on an island in the middle of the room. The table she sat at was out of the way, clearly an afterthought to the marvellous kitchen, rather than the centre point. The sink was deep and well-used. She opened a few cabinet doors and found a full china service in one, but in another cupboard, a plate, a side-plate and a bowl. A little chipped in places, and not nearly as fine. 

It echoed of someone who ate alone. 

Who lived alone.

There was certainly no evidence in here that Minerva had anyone at all in her life, aside from perhaps Madam Pomfrey and whoever made up her family. One had to be fairly close to someone to join them for Christmas and Madam Pomfrey said herself that Minerva didn't have anyone. Hermione felt sure of that now.

It was comforting for reasons she did not want to examine.

She opened a few more cabinets and drawers, finding the junk-drawer that every home seemed to have, and finally a pantry. Mrs Weasley had the same sort of layout in the cupboard, with an area down one side under stasis. Minerva, however, had no such thing and it confused Hermione a moment before she opened the cupboard next to it. 

A fridge. 

Minerva McGonagall had an honest-to-gods fridge in her home. It made Hermione giggle until she remembered that Minerva was almost as Muggle as she was.

She withdrew a normal-looking bottle of orange juice and poured herself a glass, before perusing the vegetable crisper for a snack. She found a green apple that didn't look too mealy and took both into the living room where they'd first started.

This room, despite it being in Minerva's house, didn't feel like it belonged. It was cold, somehow and as she looked around, Hermione realised it was because this was a sitting room for guests. It had very few personal touches and that made more sense when Hermione poked her head out of the room. It was the closest room to the front door and while visitors were clearly few and far between. It was probably the only room connected to the Floo as well.

Deciding that she didn't want to be in a room that didn't feel like Minerva, she picked up her apple and her juice and went exploring properly. She poked her head into the other downstairs rooms. She saw the study, a small bathroom and a formal dining room. She realised, quite quickly, that on the few occasions she had visitors, Minerva must entertain in the kitchen or the library. Everything else felt very unlived in. 

She climbed the stairs again and slipped down the hallway into the library and once again, let it take her breath away.  That feeling she'd been ignoring was back in her stomach. That warmth that seemed to radiate out of her like a beacon. The idea that Minerva had  _ this _ in her house was almost too much. She sat down in a soft, inviting chair and ate her apple. Taking her time with it, she banished the core to the kitchen sink and looked around properly. She took in the windows, once again, but looked closer at the actual room. If she had asked most people what Minerva McGonagall's bookshelf looked like, they would likely insist that it would be ordered, alphabetised and pristine. She had learned earlier the previous year that no such thing was true. Minerva's bookshelves were messy with books she had read and not put back. Or bought and not found room for. They were vaguely in the correct area, but it made Hermione smile at the thought of such an ordered woman being so unordered in arguably the most important part of her life.

She got up and walked over to the closest shelves, finding myths and legends in this section. Books on every culture imaginable - Muggle and Wizarding. She read the spines as her fingers trailed over them, but left each one where it was. People imagined that she had an insatiable need to read every minute of every day, but that wasn't quite true. Sometimes, Hermione read to keep people away from her while she was thinking. In a house where the only other occupant was currently unconscious, she did not need to do so. 

She almost wished she had a paper and pen to take some notes down, but upon further thought, decided it was probably a good thing she didn't. The only notes she wanted to make were those on the reasons Minerva McGonagall was the most brilliant, beautiful, intelligent, exciting woman on the whole planet, and how impossible it would be to mean something to her. She growled, angry at herself for even thinking like that; in such shallow terms. Minerva was a fighter. An agent of The Order. She didn't need someone following her around like a puppy. Besides that, it wasn't as if Hermione didn't also have important work to do. Huffing again, she dropped back onto the chair and pulled her knees up under her. She was so confused and discombobulated, she didn't really know what to do with herself. 

She sat with that feeling for a while and then realised she would attack this problem as she did any other. Calmly, rationally and without emotion.

She took a deep breath and let it out again.

_ Yeah, right. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hello dearest ones. Hope you're enjoying this little ditty. Here we are again. I have no idea where I am with replying to reviews. It's been a weird few days really hasn't it? I thought we were done with end-of-the-world bingo but here we are again.**
> 
> **As ever, thanks to Lib McGranger for her loveliness and eyes and her desperate need to get me to write more all the time ;)**
> 
> -0-

When she woke up, it was so dark she could hardly see her hand in front of her face. Realising she'd fallen asleep, rummaged through the cushions to find her wand. Muttering a quiet  _ Lumos _ , she rushed down the hallway to Minerva's room. She hadn't meant to leave her alone for so long and she certainly hadn't meant to fall asleep. What if Minerva had needed her? What if something had happened?

She knocked quickly and quietly and peered in, ready for the worst.

"MINERVA!"

The woman in question was sitting up in her bed, a book on her knee, nibbling on some toast that she had obviously visited the kitchen to make.

"What's wrong?" Minerva asked, looking worried. Hermione gaped at her and gestured toward her helplessly. "Oh. Well, I was hungry and you were," she shrugged carefully. "Indisposed."

"I'm supposed to be looking after you!"

It sounded more petulant than she'd meant it to but she frowned all the same.

"Come here," Minerva chuckled, patting the bed beside her. Hermione waited a moment before Minerva's face softened even more. "Please? I'll even share my toast?"

"I see why Madam Pomfrey gets frustrated with you," Hermione rolled her eyes, but toed off her shoes and sat cross-legged beside her. "You're infuriating."

"Thank you," Minerva chuckled. "Toast?" Hermione shook her head but took a piece and chuckled when Minerva grinned smugly at her. They munched happily for a while until it was gone. Hermione placed the plate on the dresser and sat back down, looking at Minerva carefully. "Want to make sure I've not gone doolally?"

"That's too hard a question to answer," Hermione quipped. "I'm sure it would be inconclusive."

"The cheek of the woman," Minerva mused.

Hermione shifted, getting to her knees. She performed the monitoring spell and watched Minerva's brain for a while before she cancelled the spell.

"It's funny," she mused, leaning over and getting the bruise paste. "Even after seeing an actual image of your brain, you're still as mysterious as ever."

Minerva laughed and Hermione joined in. She had been worried about feeling too much to function, but Minerva was easy to talk to. After all, she'd done it before, many times, but even with the added weight of the knowledge she carried around with her, Hermione still found it as easy as breathing.

"Alright?" Minerva asked, touching her hand.

Hermione jumped and blinked, shaking her head at herself.

"Sorry, I was miles away. Just thinking about how easy it is to talk to you."

"There," Minerva said with a grin. "You  _ are  _ plucky."

Hermione rolled her eyes and snorted quietly as she unscrewed the bruise paste,

"Are you doing this? Or me?"

"You'd better. I cannae see around corners, no matter how many of my students think I can."

Hermione smiled and went to work. As gently as she could, she slathered it on Minerva's skin, making sure to cover the area completely. In doing so, she noticed how dainty Minerva's ears were and -

"Holy shit!"

"Hermione!"

"You," Hermione leaned back a little and stared at her. "You have pierced ears? And," she glanced back. "A helix?"

Minerva blushed and rubbed the top of her ear.

"A," she laughed. "Dare from my not-quite youth."

"Can you still wear one?"

"I do often," Minerva smiled. "Well, when the students can't see me. I meant to put it in before the party, but I forgot. It was my niece that dared me. She is now very much grown so it is her daughter, my grand-niece that takes delight in gifting me outrageous studs."

"That is simultaneously the greatest and most hilarious thing I've ever heard!"

"You'd like Lucy," Minerva chuckled. 

"That's Madam Pomfrey's daughter?"

"Aye," Minerva smiled. "Poppy married my brother, William. They have two children, Lucy and Calum. Lucy has a little girl Adeline, Adie, she prefers. Calum died in the first war."

"God," Hermione dropped back onto her heels. The happiness she'd felt evaporated away. "I'm so sorry."

"I am sorry," Minerva muttered, taking Hermione's hand and squeezing it gently. "It was so long ago and while I will never get  _ used _ to it, it does not sit so heavily anymore. He died doing what he knew was right; protecting his sister."

"War is awful," Hermione whispered, staring at the jar of paste in her hands.

"Yes," Minerva agreed. "It is."

The lightness of the evening seemed lost and Hermione slowly screwed the lid on and drew out her bag. She managed to find the paracetamol and left two by the bed.

"I think I will go to bed if that's alright?"

"Of course it is," Minerva agreed sadly. "As I said. The House is yours. It is completely at your disposal."

"If you need me, get me?"

"I will," Minerva smiled. "I too should sleep, though."

"You should. It will help," Hermione whispered, though she heard the bleakness in her tone. "Do not get up tomorrow. I'll come and wake you."

Minerva smiled.

"I assure you it isn't bad. I managed to duck most of it. Had Ginny been any slower, though, I would have feared for her life."

"Yes, well," Hermione muttered. "Ron will, no doubt, get what's coming to him."

Minerva smirked at little and Hermione took her leave. The room was similar to Minerva's but with less comfort to it, somehow. She peered into the wardrobe and found a few old robes that she didn't dare touch. In the top were shoeboxes, but again, she curbed her interest and instead, closed the door and turned. She peeked into the dresser and discovered it empty. She summoned the spare clothes from her little bag and smoothed them out as she tucked them into one of the drawers. It was not much of selection, but she doubted Minerva would notice. 

She considered a shower, but when she saw the bed turned down in invitation she dropped onto the bed with a huff. She lay there for a while before she groaned into her hands. Madam Pomfrey had asked her to sit with Minerva and though she knew not to wake her every hour, she knew the reasons that Muggle doctors did so. She changed, at least and brushed her teeth before she pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. She stood in the hallways and considered what she was about to do before she remembered that she was a Gryffindor for a reason. 

She knocked quietly.

"Come?"

"I forgot," Hermione muttered. "I'm supposed to stay."

"You are certainly not obliged to," Minerva huffed.

"I know, but," she blinked. "I don't want you to die in the middle of the night on my watch. I get enough grief from people about my heritage. I don't want to be responsible for the death of the greatest witch in living memory."

Minerva snorted. 

"I am neither great nor the greatest in living memory," Minerva rolled her eyes.

"I beg to differ. So, I'm going to sit here," she pointed at the armchair away from the bed and Minerva's line of sight. "And check on you a few times. I won't wake you. I'm tired, but I did promise Madam Pomfrey that I'd sit with you."

"You are making a mountain out of a molehill. I am quite fine. I have had worse knocks from less traumatic happenings."

"Well, I wasn't there for those. I'm here now. Indulge me."

She offered it as a question. If Minerva truly didn't want her in the room, she'd leave - under protest - but she would do so. But, she had still had a nasty knock. To her temple, no less. If it took her pushing to get Minerva to take care of herself, she would push. 

Minerva was worth it.

"Alright," Minerva groaned. "Do as you wish. You can do better than that though," she grumbled, waving her hand. The armchair turned into a recliner. 

A great feat of wandless, silent magic to be sure but something Minerva wasn't supposed to be partaking in.

"For goodness sake, you are infuriating," she groaned. "No magic!"

"Tosh," Minerva huffed. "Magic is breathing. There's no way around it."

"Ok, well this is devolving so I'm going over here. You sleep."

"Hermione."

"Yep?"

Minerva looked at her for a long moment before offering her hand. Hermione, in turn, looked at Minerva before accepting. Now that she wasn't concerned about Minerva being dead, she examined her hand. Minerva had long, slender fingers and soft skin, punctuated by a few freckles closer to her wrist. Her skin was pale and set off the ring on her middle finger perfectly. It was thin, like a vine, wrapped twice around, leaves tastefully broke up the shape, just enough to make it interesting.

"That's very pretty," she said absently. She dropped the mini-argument they weren't quite having, in favour of chasing what they had before.

"A present from my grandmother when I was small," Minerva smiled. "It is one of the few I wear often."

"You don't tend to wear them in class?"

"I do," she chuckled. "You just don't notice them."

Hermione smiled and squeezed the hand gently.

"I would feel awful if something happened and I wasn't around."

"I know." Minerva almost nodded but stopped herself at the last minute. "But I'm not sure how else to tell you I really am fine. Poppy even mentioned that I am. I think she just wanted someone to keep an eye on me for her while she's indisposed."

"You passed out, it was," she swallowed as the image of Minerva falling from her broom flashed before her eyes.

"I know and I am sorry for scaring you. Ginny blocked my view, otherwise, I would have seen it sooner and ducked in time for it to miss me. As it happens, had Ginny not been as quick as she was, it could have been a lot worse. I was already moving away when it glanced me."

"Shall I mention the passing out again?"

Minerva smiled and squeezed Hermione's hand. She had forgotten they were still holding hands.

"Stay if you wish," she said gently. "But sleep. Cast a monitoring charm on me, if you must?"

"How?" 

Minerva ran through the spell and after a slightly off-angled flick at the end, got it on the second try.

"Now," Minerva said. "Sleep. It will wake you if need be."

"Okay," Hermione said. She already felt better now there was an alarm on Minerva's well-being. "I'll go back to my room then and hopefully see you in the morning?"

"Hopefully? I'll be here," Minerva smiled. "Sleep sweet, Hermione."

She smiled and nodded to Minerva. 

"Good night."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Alright loves, it's snowing in my part of the world and I'm all happy and excitable and last night I wrote like 5 more chapters. We're currently up to 15 or 16 I think. I'm envisioning about 20-22 at this point. Enjoy! Thank you to Lib, as ever, for keeping me on my toes, and for making sure my tenses are not too bad - cos we all know they're pretty dodgy when I'm left to my own devices.**
> 
> -0-

The smell of bacon simultaneously pleased her and made her a little angry.

"Bloody stubborn woman," Hermione grumbled, rolling out of bed and storming down the stairs. She stood at the door to the kitchen watching Minerva flip two eggs deftly, hips swaying to a song that was playing on an old-fashioned wireless.

"There had better be a serial killer in this bloody kitchen, as I distinctly recall telling Minerva McGonagall not to get up until I checked on her!"

"Madainn mhath!"

"Oh my God," Hermione groaned. "Is this you with brain-damage?"

"What?" Minerva chuckled. "No, of course not. I am feeling very much better. That is Gaelic for good morning."

"Oh god." She repeated, as she rubbed her hands over her face and looked out from between her fingers. "Madam Pomfrey is going to kill me."

"Nonsense," Minerva grinned. "She'll never know." 

"Boody hell."

"None of that," Minerva tutted. "Come, sit. I have tea." Hermione sat at the counter and was presented with a mug of tea. "Breakfast will be done in a few minutes and there are scones in the oven." Hermione could only make a strangled noise as rest her head on the bench. "I did say it wasn't so bad."

"You clearly don't recall getting knocked unconscious and falling from your broom!"

"Ah," Minerva paused, spatula pointing at Hermione. "You are correct in that regard. I do not."

"Hopeless," Hermione huffed. "Can I check you over while you cook?"

"After we've eaten," Minerva waved her off. "I'm starving."

"You are very different when you're not at school. Much less stern, I think, when you're in your element."

"I am," Minerva smiled, pausing. "Does that bother you?"

"No," Hermione frowned. "Why would it?"

"Because I am very much the opposite of Professor McGonagall whenever I can be?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say that she wasn't in love with Professor McGonagall or anything like that but realised that was  _ far _ too close to home, so she shook her head instead.

"Why would that bother me? I realise that teachers have lives outside of school. I think we've all established that by now. Well," Hermione shrugged. "I have. And, if I may, I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."

"Quite right," Minerva chuckled. "I, for one, might even give Ronald ten house points when we get back. He's given me an impromptu holiday to boot!"

"Were you expected to be working for The Order this week?"

"Aye," she said, sounding tired suddenly. "It seemed only fair that I, as one without immediate family, be the one to take that particular shift. Now, someone else will have to."

"What are you working on?"

"Nothing we shall be talking about, madam," Minerva said, looking shrewdly at Hermione. "I'm  _ mildly _ concussed, not addled." Hermione grinned and sipped her tea. It was always worth a try. "Now. Tomatoes? Fried?"

"Ooh, yes please. I've not had fried tomatoes since before term started. Dad does a fry up every Sunday. We eat a late breakfast and go for a hike, most weekends."

"A man after my own heart," Minerva smiled, before glancing over. "May I ask a question?"

"I think it's only fair, considering the number I have asked, that you also get to ask some too?" Hermione shrugged.

"How are they coping?"

That was a curveball if Hermione had ever seen one. She had expected any other question but that and while it hurt a little to consider she found she didn't really mind talking about it.

"I," she took another sip, smiling as Minerva warmed it a little with a wave of her hand. "I am struggling with what to tell them. How much to reveal and how to protect them."

"Oh," Minerva gaped. "Oh how foolish of us! Hermione," Minerva pleaded. "Please forgive me for not thinking of them!"

"Don't worry about it," Hermione shifted. "It's -"

"Inexcusable," Minerva finished for her. "Eat up. How do you feel about inviting me over for Christmas with your parents?"

"What?"

"Tomorrow is Christmas day. If we get sorted here, we can be at your parents' house tomorrow, and I can ward the property. Or persuade them to move somewhere safe for a while?"

"I don't think they'll move. They have a rather successful practice."

"Practice?"

"They're dentists," Hermione blushed.

"You are ashamed?"

Hermione opened her mouth to immediately rebuff that idea but Minerva's eyes made her pause.

"No," she said finally after consideration. "But it is rather difficult to explain sometimes. And the prevailing opinion of Muggleborns is sometimes a lot to handle."

"I understand that," Minerva muttered.

"I was surprised for a moment to find a fridge," Hermione changed the subject slightly. "Until I remembered you are half Muggle, right?"

Minerva smiled sadly but didn't comment and Hermione realised she'd stumbled into murky water.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"Oh," Minerva said, shaking her head. "No, don't be. You are fine. I was lost in memories. Yes, my father was a Muggle. My mother, though she was a witch from a rather old family, lived as a Muggle for many years before we were born. Fridges and kettles will always take precedence in my home, over stasis and warming spells."

"Is it me or does a warming spell just not make a good cup of tea?"

"Yes," Minerva chuckled. "I've tried to tell Poppy for years there's a difference but she insists it's ridiculous."

"She's pureblood?"

"She grew up in a Wizarding household," Minerva corrected gently. "But yes. Then she married Will and," she chuckled. "It all went downhill from there."

"If you are quite well, why don't you go to theirs for Christmas? You don't need to entertain me?"

Minerva paused in the plating and considered it for a moment.

"For one, I am rather enjoying spending time with you. It is rather an exciting prospect to get to know you better, even if in a week or so you will have to go back to doing as you are told, by me. The second part is," she blushed. "Well, I confess to f eeling a bit like an intruder sometimes. They insist that I am not, but," she shrugged. "Their family is their own. They don't need me at all of their milestones."

"Perhaps they just  _ want _ you there," Hermione soothed gently, though she understood completely. "Having said that," she decided just to be honest. "I get it. I always feel like that at The Weasley's. They're lovely and welcoming and second-to-none in terms of care and affection, but sometimes I feel like if it came down to it, as welcoming as they are, I'd need to back off. Not that they'd tell me to, but because it was the right thing to do."

Minerva smiled gently and nodded.

"Yes."

Sensing that the discussion was turning a little melancholic, Hermione raced to change the subject.

"Okay Chef McGonagall, what is for breakfast?"

Minerva snorted a little and met Hermione's eyes. Something passed between them that Hermione couldn't identify before Minerva waved her hand and a rather impressive chef's hat appeared atop her head. Hermione giggled.

"For the first course, madam, we have the humble egg. Versatile and useful for most things, a fantastic source of protein. Second course is, of course, black pudding and sausages. But don't turn your nose up, black pudding is an essential part of any Scot's breakfast. For the third course, we have toast and some marmalade if you wish. Otherwise, bon appetit."

Hermione was laughing by the time Minerva took a deep bow and the chef's hand fell down over her eyes. 

"Bother," she chuckled, banishing it from wherever it came from.

"You can definitely keep the black pudding for yourself," Hermione winced. "Any baked beans?"

"Oh!" Minerva said, acting like she was wounded. "No black pudding  _ and _ a lover of baked beans. Whatever will we do with her."

Hermione was still laughing as Minerva pointed to the pantry.

"If you don't like them so much," Hermione grinned as she poked her head into the cupboard. "Why on earth do you have so many?"

"William likes them," she deadpanned. "Which translated into  _ all _ of his progeny liking them as well."

Hermione snorted a little indelicately and opened a can, warming them with a spell, rather than on the stove.

"It's only for me, I don't care."

"Good," Minerva said, setting two plates down. "Now, eat."

Hermione settled on her seat and watched as Minerva paused for half a second before shaking it off and eating. It was confusing to Hermione as she'd seen a similar movement before; when her Grandparents ate meals with them.

"Were you -" Hermione bit back what she was saying when Minerva looked up, her eyes wide. "No matter."

"He was a Deacon, my father, at a small church in the village where we lived. I," she frowned. "Old habits," she shrugged. "Christmas is a time of memories, I find."

"I didn't mean to draw attention to it. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"Oh," Minerva chuckled. "Don't be. That is a part of getting to know each other, isn't it?"

"Yes, but not at the expense of a good mood or other, happier memories."

"While I refuse to call myself old, Hermione Granger, I have lived quite long enough for  _ those _ memories to become increasingly more distant."

"Can I ask how old-"

"You may," Minerva smirked around a mouthful. "I'll be," she considered it. "I technically turned 61 two months ago."

"You don't -"

"No," Minerva chuckled. "I don't. And Albus does not look as old as he is, either."

"So there is some truth to the rumour that we age differently?"

Minerva wiped her mouth daintily with a napkin.

"I," she considered it. "Believe so, yes. Studies have never been done, if you can believe that. I think it is just assumed that is how it is." She thought about it for a moment. "Or they have never had a comparison like Muggle-borns?"

"That's," Hermione frowned. "Why  _ is _ the Wizarding World like that?"

"I believe history has a terrible way of making people feel comfortable in their space. People like you - and I, if I'm honest - are ready to burst out of it and because of that, they malign you. And yet," Minerva chuckled ruefully. "You are in the right!"

"I do like talking to you," Hermione laughed. "You always make me feel so much better."

"That is my job as a teacher, no?"

A squelching feeling suddenly sprang up in Hermione's stomach.

"Um, yeah," she said awkwardly, pushing away her plate. Food suddenly wasn't appealing anymore.

"I have just upset you."

"No," Hermione lied. "No, just not hungry anymore. Sorry. I might have a shower."

She left the kitchen and fled to the spare room. In truth, it was so easy to talk to Minerva, out of the confines of school and to a lesser extent the public, that it was easy to forget that she was still her teacher. She got into the shower and stood under the hot water for a long time, long enough that the tears she cried had dried up and she could breathe again without hiccupping. By the time she had emerged freshly dressed, there was a fresh, steaming cup of tea waiting for her on the bedside table with a note.

_ I'm in the library. And I apologise for the misstep.  _

Hermione sighed and sat on the bed. It wasn't Minerva's fault that she'd suddenly remembered that she had a huge crush on the woman, any more than it was Minerva's fault that she had an occupation that didn't really align with what Hermione wanted at that moment. She'd just potentially ruined a friendship, let alone whatever might be possible afterwards.

Rubbing her face tiredly, she picked up her tea, smiling at how warm it remained and made her way to the library.

"Hi," she whispered, feeling suddenly very shy.

"Hello," Minerva said gently. "I'm sor-"

"Please don't," Hermione frowned. "It's not you. You did nothing wrong, I think I just," she sighed again. "Forgot for a moment that this isn't how life goes sometimes."

"Whyever not," Minerva said, putting her finger in her book.

"Because regardless of what happens next, you will go back to being a teacher and I, your student. My parents will go about their daily lives because I know them. I know how they think. They'll think this is ridiculous and that they won't cower away - despite not realising the danger they're in. And you," Hermione bit back a sob, but only just. "You will go back to spying for the Order and I," she put the tea down and started pacing. "I have to help Harry work out what Dumbledore wants him to do because God FORBID Dumbledore says it in a way that Harry can understand and at the end of it, we might all die anyway. I mean," she was crying and she was getting angrier about it. "Why are we -"

"Hermione," Minerva said gently. "Breathe."

Before Hermione could protest, Minerva had wrapped her up in an embrace that Hermione all but collapsed into. She held on so tight that she was half afraid that she was hurting Minerva, but the woman made no move to stop her. Instead, she held on right back and eventually led her over to the sofa where they sat down together, Minerva's arm still around her shoulder.

"It's okay to be scared, Hermione. We are all scared."

"That does  _ not _ make me feel better," Hermione chuckled, wiping her eyes. "If you're all scared what hope is there for me?"

"Fear is useful," Minerva mused. "It keeps you on your toes. And it gives you caution. It is also a great indicator."

"For what?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Courage."

"I'm not brave," Hermione muttered.

"I would, very much, beg to differ."

"I -"

"You, as a First Year, ran after your friends in order to help make sure that one of the evilest men I've ever known could not come back from the dead."

"I -"

"And in Second Year? You ran through the castle, warning everyone you could that there was danger lurking around every corner and did your best to save everyone you met. At great expense to yourself, I might add."

"But I -"

"You saved Sirius, turned time and achieved what no other student has ever done in your Third. At fifteen,  _ you _ were the one that taught Harry everything he might need to know to keep himself alive, dealt with the press with the greatest of aplomb and last year," Minerva shivered. "Last year you did all you could to protect as many people as you could, where," her voice cracked. "Where we could not. And you punished," again she cleared her throat. "People that needed to be."

"I have never wanted to harm another like I wanted to harm her," Hermione whispered. "It scared me."

"I know the feeling," Minerva mused. "My point is, dear one, that you are," Minerva stared at her. "An essential part of our war against evil. I know that Albus keeps all of his moving parts hidden, but I know, in my heart, that had you not been with us from the beginning? We would not have prevailed so many times."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione blushed. "But thank you."

"You are most welcome," Minerva smiled, her thumb twitching against Hermione's cheek. 

For a moment, Hermione thought she might say something else, but instead, Minerva frowned for barely a moment and let go, getting up suddenly and moving to the bookshelf. 

"To that end," she said, turning back to face Hermione with no evidence of whatever it was that had just occurred. "Let me help you, where I can. Christmas is a time for celebrating family and we will do so, tomorrow if you are still in favour, but today, perhaps, we shall learn?"

"I'd like that very much," Hermione grinned. "But you cannot be doing magic."

"Tosh. I'm fine. I won't tell if you won't tell. Also, I happened to have done quite a bit this morning."

"Minerva -"

"Fine," Minerva chuckled. "Take out _your_ wand then, and I'll teach you the basics until you'll let me do some proper magic."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Nothing really to report today. I've been trying to write chapter 22 forever so I'm posting this instead :) Lucky you guys lol**
> 
> **Thanks, as always, to Lib for her cheerleading, beta-ing and all the rest.**
> 
> -0-

Training with Minerva McGonagall was brutal and after hours of it, Hermione couldn't even keep hold of her wand.

"Alright, alright," Minerva chuckled, as Hermione dropped her wand for the third time. "Let's take a break."

"For someone with a concussion, you're awfully energetic," Hermione huffed, dropping to the sofa with a groan.

"I have been wielding magic for a while longer than you, my dear. It is only natural that it takes time to build up your stamina."

Hermione blushed, trying not to consider the other ways stamina was useful. She managed to distract Minerva by asking her to impart as many protection spells as she could remember instead.

"After lunch," Minerva nodded. "What would you like?"

"I don't know," Hermione chuckled. "What is there?"

"Let us find out," Minerva smiled, offering her hand.

"Only after we stop and check you over and put more bruise paste on," Hermione said hopefully.

Minerva grinned and rolled her eyes as she led them to her room.

"Do your worst," Minerva ordered, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"You're terrible," Hermione laughed.

She performed the spell, taking careful note that Minerva's brain looked absolutely fine and then summoned the bruise paste. Minerva plucked it out of the air and smiled at Hermione's frown.

"Put your wand away and summon it wandlessly."

She felt her eyes light up at the prospect and did as Minerva asked, frowning when she realised she wasn't sure how. Minerva, however, smiled gently.

"Think of what you are summoning. And for now, say the spell out loud and hold out your hand. To an extent, without a wand, your hand does the directing."

It took her three tries. The first time, the tub of cream jumped off Minerva's hand and onto the bed. The second it hovered for a few seconds but refused to move. The third time, Hermione felt something shift within her and the tub came sailing towards her, landing in her hand happily.

"Well done," Minerva beamed. "Congratulations."

Hermione returned the smile, secretly she was over the moon, but she couldn't very well cheer while she had Minerva waiting to have bruise paste put on her. Instead, she leaned closer and started dabbing cream on Minerva's temple before she stopped and simply looked at the woman.

"Thank you," Heroine whispered.

"You are most welcome, my dear," Minerva smiled. 

Bruise paste on, Hermione let Minerva pull her up and escort her to the kitchen. She was fairly sure that Minerva hadn't noticed, but neither of them dropped the other's hand and while Hermione was sure that it meant nothing to Minerva, she was practically floating by the time they reached the fridge.

"Chicken, cheese, bread, scones," Minerva looked pensive. "Tomatoes. What about a pizza?"

"Oh," Hermione groaned. "Yes."

Minerva chuckled and got out the flour and cleared off the bench.

"You are _not_ making pizza by hand. Come on."

Minerva laughed and threw some flour on the work surface.

"Would you like to join me?"

"Oh," Hermione said, her eyes going wide. "No, no, no. I don't cook."

"Nonsense," Minerva scoffed. "Everybody _can_ cook. One just requires proper training."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "You don't understand. I once made a cake for my Mum and it was only in the oven for about twenty minutes before it set on fire. Cooking and I do not get along."

Minerva laughed and shook her head.

"Alright then, seeing as you insist you cannae be trusted around this sort of thing," Minerva grinned. "Sit ye down. You can keep me entertained while I work."

Hermione did, and Minerva summoned the orange juice and a glass for each of them.

"How does that actually work without a wand? Obviously I," Hermione hesitated as she poured a glass for both of them. "I mean, how are we able to do that?"

"Your wand is not the source of your power," Minerva said, running some water into a bowl. "It is merely an extension of your internal magic. Once you realise that, you can harness a great deal of it without your wand in hand."

"So a wand is," Hermione thought about it. "Like a magical conductor then? A lightning rod?"

"Yes," Minerva smiled. "Exactly that. It directs the power where you want it to go. Spellwork is similar, you create the words that direct the magic to a particular task or action. I," she frowned. "Do not make this public, but we -" Hermione shrugged. "My colleagues and I have discovered that some of us are able to alter how wandless or silent magic works slightly."

"How?" Hermione asked, her interest piqued. "You're saying that ordinarily, it works as you taught me? You say the spell and direct your hand? I assume if you are silently casting you -" she frowned. "How does that work?"

"You say the spell in your head and direct your wand," she pulled a face. "Or your hand, or," she shrugged, giving a demonstration. "A finger."

"Minerva," Hermione groaned as she plucked the bottle from the air. Minerva smirked at her. "So wandless magic is the spell without the wand?" Minerva nodded, starting to mix the dough. 

"Wandless, silent spell-casting, is traditionally a mishmash of that. However," Minerva mused. "A number of us; Albus, Filius, Severus and a few other Masters I know, can do wandless, silent magic without pointed direction."

"Whoa," Hermione said, blinking. "That's," she swallowed. "I mean, I knew you were -" she bit the rest off, fighting her blush. "You must be incredibly powerful."

"Hmm," Minerva mused, pausing what she was doing. "Couldn't take on four at once though, could I?" she mumbled.

"That was hardly a fair fight," Hermione counselled. "And perhaps the reason you are even alive is because of that power," Hermione soothed. She hated the absent look in Minerva's eyes wherever she thought of that day.

"A novel idea." Minerva shook herself and moved onto kneading the dough. "Not everyone can do it, mind. Not everyone whom I would consider powerful can do it. But enough of us can that it is becoming a trend in powerful, intelligent magic wielders."

"That's fascinating," Hermione nodded. "Is it more taxing than regular magic use?"

Minerva thought about it.

"It is about the same physically, though it does require more focus, so I suppose it is a little more taxing, if you look at it that way."

"So you just imagine something? Ask it to move? Is it like telekinesis?"

Minerva laughed.

"Not so much. It's," she looked at Hermione’s glass and it lifted into the air. "For example, if you are levitating something, with the regular incantation, you feel the weight of it in your arms, somehow. This," she nodded to the glass, "you seem to feel in your brain. It's quite bizarre."

"Has anyone ever done research on it?"

"Not beyond my discussions with Albus and Filius. I only know of the other masters because of small comments in their papers that are obvious to those of us who can, but not so much to those who cannot."

"Fascinating," Hermione grinned, resting her chin on her hands. "What else?"

"You are like an information sponge," Minerva chuckled, shaking her hair back. "Oh," she frowned when it fell over her face again. "Be a dear, will you?"

Hermione stood and moved around the bench, tucking the loose strands of hair behind Minerva's ear with shaking hands.

"Thank you," Minerva winked. "Now, back to information sponges," she laughed.

Hermione needed a moment to compose herself but shook it off admirably - if she did say so herself.

"I just need to know everything!" Hermione mumbled, still blushing. "How am I supposed to know everything if I can't find everything?"

"You are funny," Minerva smiled. "What else then? You pick the topic. I shall do my best to accommodate your thirst for information."

They talked endlessly while Minerva made them pizza and by the time she pulled it from the oven, Hermione's brain was racing.

"Shall I summon some paper and a pen?" Minerva chuckled, interrupting Hermione's thoughts.

"I would use it," Hermione blushed, looking away.

"There is nothing wrong with being intelligent, Hermione, never hide that."

"It is difficult," Hermione whispered. "Sometimes."

"I know," Minerva soothed. "But don't you hide it. If someone cannot cope with your brilliance, Hermione, then they don't deserve you."

"Honestly the only people that seem to be able to is Harry, Ginny and," she swallowed suddenly when she realised the other person she was going to say. "Um, you -" Hermione said, unable to stop mid-sentence.

"Then I am in good company," Minerva smiled, cutting the pizza and plating up. "Shall we?"

"Shall we, where?" Hermione blinked, looking around.

"I thought we would eat on the roof."

"You -" Hermione glanced at the ceiling. "Yes please!"

They made their way up onto the roof and Hermione sighed, looking around as Minerva constructed a dome to protect them from the weather and set the table.

"There we are."

"Perfect," Hermione breathed. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ ," Minerva sat. "Dig in."

Hermione took a bite and moaned salaciously at the flavour.

"You are," Hermione shook her head. "Amazing."

Minerva grinned and sat back with a sigh.

"I must say," Minerva chewed thoughtfully. "It is rather good."

They sat in comfortable silence, eating thankfully while they watched the clouds gathering over the mountains.

"Have you any interest in the stars?" Minerva asked.

Hermione's answer sparked a discussion on Centaurs, which sparked a discussion on magical mysteries and by the time Minerva seemed to realise the time, they'd talked for hours and hours and hours.

"Gracious," Minerva said, looking at her watch. "It's late. We should get to bed if we want to surprise your family tomorrow?"

"I have no presents," Hermione muttered, following Minerva out of her seat and stacking the plates. "For you or for them."

"I need nothing," Minerva waved her off. "Save your company perhaps until the 29th?"

"What happens on the 29th?"

"That is the date I must return to Order business."

"No," Hermione protested. "Minerva -"

"I must," Minerva said quietly. "I must."

Hermione threw caution to the wind and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Minerva's neck. Minerva's arms wrapped around her waist and they held each other for a moment before Hermione stepped back, pulling on the sleeves of her shirt.

"I do recall promising you that I would be careful," Minerva whispered. "If that helps?"

"I think," Hermione swallowed. "That I could cope with anybody else laying their life down. Eventually, I mean." She looked up into Minerva's eyes and found them so very green in the half-light from the lanterns that had lit themselves as the sun went down. "But not you. I don't think I would ever recover from that."

"You will not have to," Minerva smiled grimly. "Though we all must play our part? How should I feel when you are plotting and scheming with Mr Potter? You have ended up battling some of the worst sorts, Hermione."

"But I needed to -" She realised what Minerva was doing and sighed, stepping out of Minerva's reach. "I understand."

"Do you?" Minerva asked gently, matching the movement and stepping back into Hermione's space. "Can you?"

"War is sacrifice," Hermione said sadly. 

"Not if we can help it," Minerva soothed, her hand soft against Hermione's cheek.

Nodding in agreement, Hermione wrapped her arms around Minerva once more, sighing into her shoulder as she was held right back.

"We need some sleep. Tomorrow will be a day when I _must_ perform some magic and I will need your help to do so."

"Me?"

"Yes," Minerva chuckled. "So sleep. We will leave fairly early, so you can enjoy the day."

"What will we do if they refuse?" Hermione whispered. "If they try to keep me from -" she couldn't finish the sentence, but Minerva bent a little to look into her eyes.

"At the very worst, you are now of age. And that means you are a free agent within the Wizarding World. I do not wish it to come to that, but if it does, do not despair that you will be alone."

Hermione nodded, trying not to let the tears in her eyes escape.

"G'night, Min," Hermione whispered, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to Minerva's cheek. "Thank you."

"Oh, Hermione," Minerva muttered as she left. "Thank you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: I just want to tell you all that it's been a weird week and that I adore each and every one of you who read this little fic and have left a review and starting today the updates will be slightly quicker. I've finished writing and we're just prettying it all up now.**
> 
> **On that note, thank you to Lib McGranger, who never knew there could be so many instances where Em forgot commas or put capitals in where there shouldn't be lol**
> 
> -0-

By the time they arrived at her parent's house, Hermione was wide awake. The method of waking, however, had proved to be something that still sent shivers through Hermione's body, even now. She hoped to Merlin that she hadn't embarrassed herself. Minerva had come into Hermione's room, just after six and sat beside her, running her hand through Hermione's hair. In that delicious state between waking and sleeping, it was heavenly and had she been braver, she might very well have grabbed Minerva and -

Well. 

Things would have been different. 

As it was, she had stirred and Minerva had stopped, and to her everlasting shame, Hermione had moaned. Moaned! Which had, in turn, made Minerva chuckle, which had woken her properly.

Now though, she was walking carefully along the low stone wall down the road from her house, with Minerva close behind her. She paused as the wall came to an end and made a quiet noise as a body crashed into her back. Her breath caught as two strong arms went around her middle and they let out a collective breath.

"Sorry," Minerva whispered. "That was my fault."

"It's fine," Hermione muttered, nodding in the direction they needed to go. "It's down that road. Number 28."

"I could do a little reconnaissance?"

"Do you think they're close? Would they be watching them? Surely," Hermione swallowed. "They wouldn't bother."

"An excellent point. I believe you are correct," Minerva nodded. "Alright, my suggestion would be to walk normally but be on our guard."

"Are you sure?" Hermione bit her thumbnail. "I don't wanna -"

"I do not know how easy the information is to find," Minerva apologised. "I wish I had -"

"Please don't," Hermione leaned against her just a little bit. Being careful was exhausting. "It's fine."

"If you had not made me aware, Hermione, I may not have remembered."

"And I would have dealt with it."

"How," Minerva muttered, glancing down the road.

"I had in mind a memory charm."

"Her -" Minerva turned to face her with a look on her face. "That is -"

"Not perfect, but it would have protected them."

"You are _not_ to do that," Minerva said, holding Hermione's chin. "Do _not_. There is no coming back from that. I'd sooner put them up at my place before that is even a consideration."

"It's why I'm glad you're here," Hermione smiled sadly.

Minerva sighed and kissed Hermione's forehead abruptly. 

"Me too," she whispered. "Let's go."

They emerged from the garden where they were hiding like they'd been there the whole time. At the current hour, there was nobody around and no curtains twitching. It gave Hermione hope that nobody had found her parents or made the connection. She let them in the gate and Minerva remarked on how lovely the house was before Hermione knocked on the door. There was a long pause before her father opened the door slowly and peered around it.

"HERMIONE!"

"DAD!"

Unable to stop herself she leapt into her arms and let him swing her around, as he had done every day they'd seen each other since she started Hogwarts. He laughed and called upstairs before turning to see Minerva on the doorstep.

"Oh, apologies. I know you."

"Dad, this is Minerva. Um, my -" she frowned. "My friend."

"Minerva McGonagall, Dr Granger."

"Oh tosh," he grinned. "It's Sam. Come in."

"Thank you," she winked at Hermione as she went past.

"Jen will be down in just a minute," he said happily, turning back to Hermione. "It's so good to see you, peanut."

"Dad," Hermione blushed.

"Sorry," he grinned unabashedly. "Peanut."

Minerva laughed musically and Hermione realised they were still in the entrance hall.

"Geez Dad," Hermione groaned. "Come in, Min."

"Oh, yes. Do," he smiled. "Straight through. I'll put the kettle on, I think. Tea or coffee, Minerva?"

"Tea please," Minerva called as Hermione showed her into the sitting room. "Don't worry so much," she said quietly as Hermione tugged on her sleeves. "It's fine."

"It's fine now," Hermione groaned. 

"Hush," Minerva soothed her. "He's funny."

"Hermione!"

"MUM!"

She left Minerva's side and threw herself into her mother's embrace, sighing against her neck. As she did so, she realised how different it was to be embraced by her mother, as opposed to Minerva. That thought gave her pause but made her hold on just a little longer.

"I've missed you," Jenny said quietly. "Re-introduce me to your teacher?"

"Mum, this is Minerva McGonagall. My transfiguration Professor and," she smiled at Minerva. "Friend. Min, this is my mum. Jenny."

"Thank you so much for bringing her here, Ms McGonagall."

"Oh, Minerva's fine," she waved it off. "And it seemed only fair."

"Why _are_ you here, darling?" her dad asked as he came in the room carrying a tray of tea. "Not that we aren't very appreciative."

"Minerva had a nasty," Hermione frowned, trying to work out how to explain. "Fall, a few days ago. I have been looking after her."

"You've made me sound a hundred years old," Minerva mused. "I took a head-knock during a game of Quidditch," Minerva explained to blank faces. Hermione hid behind her mug and let Minerva do the talking. "It's rather a rough game if you aren't careful and well," she chuckled. "I was not as careful as I could have been."

"Is that," her dad frowned, peering at Minerva's cheek. "Are you sure you didn't crack any teeth?"

"Dad," Hermione groaned. "Yes. I'm sure."

"But how can you be -"

"Your daughter," Minerva said, squeezing Hermione's hand. "Is quite adept at healing. She has been caring for me while my regular healer has been enjoying some well-earned family time."

Hermione tried not to meet her mother's eye, but she was caught when she reached to put her mug on the tray and found her mother watching her carefully.

"I always knew she'd be a doctor," Sam chuckled.

"She is well on her way," Minerva agreed.

Hermione was so overcome by the praise she just sat in silence while they spoke around her. She knew she had not spoken much about school and life beyond it, simply because she'd come to realise that she had no idea what it would look like. And now, she was sitting in her living room with Minerva, of all people, chatting to her parents like they were part of the Wizarding World themselves.

It was all so very overwhelming.

"Darling?" her mother asked during a lull in Minerva and Sam's conversation.

"Yes, Mum?" Hermione frowned, looking up.

"I don't mean for this to sound unfeeling. I am so glad to see you, especially at Christmas. But," she glanced at Minerva. "Why are you here?"

Hermione sighed. She had hoped perhaps for some time to ease into it, but it was just like her mother to want to rip the bandage off. They were alike in that respect.

"I -" Hermione sighed and sat forward. "I need to tell you about some things that I," she winced. "Haven't been keeping from you, per se, but there are some things I haven't told you about. Things that I am in the middle of. And that I have no way - or want - of getting out of. I," she caught her mother's eye. "Wait until the end to comment?"

Jenny squinted at her for a long moment before she nodded. Hermione looked at her hands for a while before she felt a warm hand on her back. She looked over at Minerva, who nodded supportively.

"When I first joined the Wizarding World, I met a boy called Harry Potter." 

-0-

The story was told in two parts. Hermione spent a good portion of the morning telling her parents things she had withheld, while Minerva sat beside her for emotional support. At one point, Minerva had leaned over and whispered to her that she would make more tea and Hermione just nodded and kept talking.

She came to a natural pause as Minerva brought in more tea and watched as Min respectfully requested to make a late breakfast for them all. Her dad blustered for a moment but Hermione soothed his ideas of improper guest etiquette by resuming the story.

"It's fine, Min. Thank you," Hermione said, taking charge.

"I'll be in the kitchen," Minerva muttered, squeezing Hermione's shoulder before retreating.

"Hermione -"

"At the end," Hermione said sadly, already feeling the waves of disappointment rolling off them.

"Fine," her mother muttered. "But you had better be prepared to answer every question I have."

"Yes Mum," Hermione nodded.

She outlined her part in Harry's life and how she had, naturally, become his friend and then his ally. How she was now an invaluable part of the effort. She avoided using words like battle and war to try and sugar coat parts of it, but she could already see that she'd lost.

As she outlined their last year's conclusion, her mother's face turned dark.

"You mean to tell me that this school allowed you to galavant off to London with no supervision, where you engaged in a fight with people who were intent on killing you and you were hurt enough that you needed hospitalisation and you felt the need to _lie_ to us? To tell us you were at an extracurricular camp?"

Somehow, even though she was in the next room, Hermione felt Minerva pause.

"I-" Hermione ran her hands over her face. "Didn't know how to tell you. Any of it."

"Well, why bother now?" Jenny hissed. "Why not lie to us for the rest of our lives?"

"Because you are in danger," Hermione muttered. "And I need to protect you."

Hermione's dad, who was the much calmer of the two, took her mum's hand and held on as he sat forward as well, matching Hermione's posture.

"Peanut, let me see if I have this straight. There is a 'bad guy', who is hell-bent on killing your friend, the young lad we met, Harry. And because you are Harry's friend, he's going to come after you too."

"That is a very simplified version, yes," Hermione nodded. "I've been working on figuring out how to protect you for ages. Since," she sighed. "Since last year."

Jenny stood and stared at Hermione for a while before she left without saying another word. Hermione stood and went to go after her, but her father's strong arms stopped her.

"Let her be for a while, peanut. She's scared and angry and upset. Give her some time."

"I know," Hermione whispered, turning and wrapping her arms around him. "I didn't mean for it to get so big, Dad, I just wanted to protect you from worrying about me."

"And yet," he said kindly, but sadly. "You could have died and we would have had no idea."

Her heart crumpled into a million pieces as her father kissed her hair and followed her mum upstairs. As she was about to lose the strength to keep herself upright, two strong arms wrapped around her and she turned in Minerva's arms and sobbed against her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Minerva whispered. "I'm so so sorry.

They stood like that for a long while until Hermione's rumbling stomach made her snort.

"Sorry," she mumbled, stepping away.

"Don't be," Minerva sighed. "This entire experience has made me realise how neglected our Muggle parents are. I should have taken that into consideration long before now. That is on me."

"Not really," Hermione groaned. "The fact I withheld all this has made it worse."

"They'll come around," Minerva muttered, running her thumbs under Hermione's eyes and catching her tears. "Come. Eat. The rest will save for later."

Hermione followed Minerva into the kitchen and chuckled at the spread.

"I know for a fact that my parents did not have half the ingredients they currently have," Hermione pondered.

"Well, yes," Minerva said, blushing a little. "But you and I are used to Hogwarts breakfasts. And perhaps a bit of grub will help them later when they feel up to it."

Hermione chuckled and sat down next to Minerva and took her hand before they started.

"Thank you, Min," she whispered.

"You're most welcome," she smiled back, passing the plate of bacon and loading her own plate with scrambled eggs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hello all. I'm so glad you are all enjoying it. Hopefully, you will enjoy it more as I ramp up the chapter posting. I'm having a fabulous day and if you don't know why then it doesn't matter but WOOO. Ahem. Anyway. Today is a great day.**
> 
> **So here's a chapter. Thank you, as always, to the wonderful Lib McGranger! Tis a mostly thankless job trying to wrangle my words lol**
> 
> -0-

After breakfast, two cups of tea and a short, careful meander in the garden, Hermione's parents re-emerged. Minerva had been a pillar of strength in the meantime, distracting Hermione from her worries with witty stories and things that had made her laugh. 

If anything, Hermione had fallen a little bit more in love with her. She had spent a good portion of the morning trying to teach Hermione how to play chess when Sam came in the door and cleared his throat.

"Dad," Hermione gasped, standing suddenly. The table wobbled dangerously, but Minerva's quick hands steadied it. "Um. Hi."

"Peanut," he winced. "Can we have a word?"

Minerva smiled encouragingly at her as she glanced sideways. Taking a breath, Hermione nodded and followed her dad up the stairs. It was odd, seeing her room as it had been when she'd left. She paused by the door and realised that this wasn't her life anymore. The unsettled feelings she'd had for most of the summer holidays were just that. She tried to figure out when she'd first started feeling like that, but couldn't place it. It seemed, after all they'd been through, that she'd always felt like that. Since the day Minerva had appeared on her doorstep in fact.

That made her pause, even as she moved to her parent's door. She had wondered how easy it would be to remove herself from that particular memory. When she was tiny and she thought Minerva was the most incredible adult she'd ever seen. In retrospect, she found it quite easy. She had always been the child who'd preferred to be where the adults were and that hadn't changed. And, she remembered Minerva's words from earlier. As a witch, Hermione was of age, but she didn't want to rub that in her parent's face. She wanted to have a relationship with them. She wanted to know them and protect them. 

Her mission with Harry was more important though. 

She knocked respectfully, perhaps for the first time in her whole life, and poked her head around the door. Her mother was sitting at her dresser, looking at her hands, while her dad sat on the bed.

"Hi, Peanut."

"Hey," she said steadily, remembering that she was Hermione Granger; hopeful saviour of the Wizarding World and Prefect of Gryffindor House, even if she was also their daughter.

"We have some questions," her dad said kindly. "And we would like some honest answers."

"Now that I have told you everything I need to, I will be honest," Hermione reassured him. Her mother scoffed but she was well used to her mother's short temper. 

"Good," he nodded. "Good."

She stood, her hands behind her back, trying to practise her Occlumency. If she could control her emotions, things might just pan out evenly for her. She was too smart to imagine they'd pan out well.

"Okay. We've had time to think about things. And while we appreciate you coming to us with the truth, we are beyond hurt that you would keep all of that from us."

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from retorting. She wanted to ask them how they thought she should have come home at the age of 12 and told them that she'd nearly been eaten by a plant, played a violent version of a chess game, in person, and set fire to a teacher's robes. But she didn't. She focused on the vision of Minerva's face as she lay asleep and felt all her worries ebb away.

Her father was watching her expectantly.

"I acknowledge that," she said when he made it clear she was supposed to answer. "I should have told you. But I do wonder, Dad, how you think I should have done that?" 

He opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking at her. 

"You're right. Had you told us this at the beginning, we might have removed you from the school. I have in mind that might be dangerous?"

"Yes, I believe so," Hermione nodded. "Though Minerva would know the consequences of withholding magical training better."

"Okay," he said steadily. She did like her dad's way of taking care of a problem. Often she found it slow, but it was methodical and rational and she and her mum probably needed a few lessons from him. "Okay. So, putting all that aside, for a later date," he warned, making her understand that they would circle back to that later. "What are you telling us about our immediate circumstances?"

"The evil man who is seeking to kill Harry and plunge the world into darkness -"

"Less verbosity, Hermione, for goodness sake."

She rolled her eyes out of her mother's sight and cleared her head once more.

"Voldemort wants to kill Harry and enslave muggles," she winced. "Non-magical folk. He has already killed a number of people in the last year. The complicated part of it all is that the Ministry of Magic, which is the Wizarding Government, is useless. It is also quite possible that it has already been infiltrated by the enemy."

"Enemy," her mother scoffed.

Hermione snapped.

"Yes, the enemy," she hissed. "The enemy that has already killed one of our friends. He and his cronies have murdered countless people. We are  _ at war _ , mother. I know that I have not given you much time to understand that and I realise that before today you would have no idea but we are.  _ I am _ . Though we made errors we did something. We fought. And it hurts every day knowing that even though we ultimately did not lose, we certainly didn't win either. Minerva was in hospital for months. I was there for weeks. Harry lost his Godfather; the one family member he had left that cared for him. Do  _ not _ illegitimise my experience."

Her mother opened her mouth but refrained from speaking. 

"What do you want us to do?" her dad asked her.

"I don't know," Hermione said honestly. "Which is why we thought it was best to come together." A look of understanding passed over her dad's face and she shrugged. "There are a few different things we can do. We can protect the house, but that means you'd be vulnerable when you go out. What I'd like for you to do is stop working for a while, perhaps go on holiday or something. We'll hide the house, we'll protect the practice and we'll go from there?"

"You want us to stop working?"

"For a while," Hermione shrugged. 

"We have a mortgage to pay, Hermione. We have bills. We need money for food."

"I know it's not perfect Dad, I really do. I just -"

"Perhaps we might take this downstairs?" Minerva's voice said from the landing. "It is obviously not proper for me to join you in there, but I have ideas on how to cope with this." Minerva's sudden intrusion startled them but Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she met the woman's eyes through the open door. "I apologise for the intrusion."

"Right, no, please don't apologise," Sam said with a nod. "Good thinking. I suppose we should have more tea."

"Sam, take Minerva downstairs, I would like to discuss something with Hermione before we join you."

That tone was one Hermione knew well and she stared into Minerva's eyes for a while before nodding for her go. She didn't know what her mother was going to say but it would no doubt be uncomfortable.

They waited for Minerva and her dad to leave before she turned back to face her mum.

"You promised you were going to be honest with me, yes?" This tone was something Hermione had never heard before. A careful, almost hesitant tone. She sat down on the bed near her mum and nodded. "What is going on between you and Minerva?" Hermione's stomach twisted uncomfortably and she stared. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears that she couldn't tell if her mum had continued speaking or whether she was waiting. There was white noise underneath it all that was so loud, she winced. "Hermione?"

"What do you mean?" Her mother looked at her and she knew that was never going to work. Her father was rational and educated but Hermione took after her mother. "I -"

"Is there something inappropriate going on?"

"No!" Hermione objected, insulted on Minerva's behalf. "She would never."

"But there is something?"

"No, no. It's not -" she groaned, putting her head in her hands. "I," she hung her head. "It's me. Not her."

"You're not together?"

"No!" Hermione screeched. 

"You're sure."

"Mother."

"But you like her?"

"I," she swallowed. "Do," she nodded. "She's," she smiled, unable to help it. "Amazing."

"Old?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Although," she considered not telling her mum but remembered her promise and sat up, meeting her eyes. "Magical folks seem to age differently," she explained, keeping it simple. "Our ageing is slower, so our literal age is not necessarily a reflection on how 'old' we are."

"She is significantly older than I am, Hermione," Jenny said quietly. "Even if she is ageing slowly."

"I know," Hermione whispered. "But I -" She looked up and stared. "Have you ever loved someone so much that everything you do, you consider them first? That when you speak to them, you feel like they're listening to every mundane thought you've ever had, and they're interested too. And you feel dizzy when they speak? Like there's nothing else in the world you'd rather hear?"

Her mother sighed and sat back, fiddling with the hem of her robe.

"I have," she admitted, getting up and joining Hermione on the bed. "Your  d ad."

Hermione sobbed, shocked at the sound that came out of her mouth. The weight that she'd been carrying around felt a little lighter and her mother's arms engulfed her tightly.

"It's alright," her mum whispered as she cried. "I may not understand it. I don't know the woman, but I love you. I'm scared for you, for so many reasons, and I'm worried that you are so young and are fighting a war and falling in love with older women and being a generally adultier adult than more people I know socially." Hermione chuckled, wiping her eyes as she pulled away. "But you are my daughter. My  _ only _ daughter and I would not jeopardise that for anything. I want to wrap you up in cotton wool and hide you away and take you away from there, but I am also coming to understand that," she shrugged. "Your world is not my world and to do so would hurt all of us."

"I didn't mean for all this to happen."

"I know," Jenny nodded sadly. "But it is where we are now, so we're going to have to think about how we're going to move forward."

"You need to hide," Hermione shrugged. "You're really going to have to hide. Until we can defeat him. I know Dad doesn't want to but, I really need you to hear us."

"Well," Jenny said, sighing tiredly. "Let's go and see what your Minerva has to say about it all, shall we?" Hermione blushed. "Come 'ere."

Hermione was pulled into her mother's arms and she held on tightly for a long while. She realised that unseen fallout of the whole mess was that their relationship had suffered under the weight of Hermione's compartmentalisation. She vowed to herself that no matter how awkward and difficult it was to explain or share, she would do so, wherever possible. They were her parents and she loved them and she didn't want to live without them in her life. 

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love  _ you _ ," her Mum answered softly. "Let's go listen to your woman."

"She's not -"

"Darling?" she chuckled, cupping Hermione's cheeks. "There is no doubt in my mind that she will be, once you ask her," she smirked.

"MUM!"

"I'm just saying," she chuckled. "That while I don't know her at all, I saw the way she was looking at you, earlier and now. And if she hasn't realised yet, she will. I don't know what that will mean for you both, but be prepared to put the hard yards in, darling. Just know that you have nothing to fear from us." She paused and then pressed a kiss to Hermione's forehead. "About any of that." Hearing that, despite knowing it quietly, made Hermione cry again and her mother chuckled and pulled her back into her arms. "Come on," she laughed. "Nobody wants to fall in love with a wet blanket."

Hermione snorted and shook her head. She wiped her tears and followed her mother down the stairs. The thought that again, someone had noticed that Minerva might possibly share her feelings, or something akin to them, was more than she could cope with, so once more, she pushed it to the back of her mind and prepared to join them all in the living room. There, they would prepare to hide her parents away for an indeterminate amount of time or risk losing them altogether. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: A second chapter? So soon after the last one? If you're really lucky, we might have one day. We may not, but we might. I'm glad you're all loving Jenny's magnanimous support. She's a good egg really ;)**
> 
> **Thank you, as ever, to the wonder Lib McGranger. I'm so glad she's stuck around, despite my hideous grammar and my terribly confusing sentences. Lol**
> 
> -0-

When she came down the stairs, following her mother, Hermione was still wiping the tears from her eyes. Minerva met her gaze in the kitchen and immediately joined her.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly

"Fine," Hermione nodded. "Just," she glanced in the living room where her parents were whispering together. It struck her as Minerva wiped a thumb under her eyes, that she and Minerva were doing the same thing. Just as she was about to pull away, her mother looked up and smirked at her, making her blush against her will. She realised that Minerva was still speaking.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I didn't hear a word of that."

"I was just asking if you wanted tea," Minerva chuckled. "Or a Calming Draught?"

"No calming draught," Hermione chuckled. "I'm fine."

"You promise?"

Hermione sighed and squeezed Minerva's hand where it rested on her arm. 

"I promise."

Minerva nodded and turned back to the tea, waving her wand and levitating it into the living room. She passed out the cups again and this time, everyone sat back with a sigh. She sipped hers for a while before she realised she'd prefer just to get on with it.

"Alright," she said, timidly. "Where do we start?"

Jenny met her eyes and then looked across at Minerva for a moment before she waved her hand a little cooly and invited her to speak. Hermione sat forward as Minerva cleared her throat and began outlining why Hermione had been right about them needing to vacate the premises and her reasons for that. Hermione watched, having not really ever seen Minerva in negotiations. She knew she must do it a lot. The Order was a democracy, after all, but it was something to behold as she turned on all the charm and all her powers of persuasion against two people Hermione knew would be hard to bend. 

However, as Hermione often found, when Minerva McGonagall spoke, people listened. As the day wore on, they went round and round fleshing out options and discounting them immediately or sometimes a little later. Everyone was getting more and more frustrated and Hermione felt completely out of place. Though Minerva did her best to involve her and to treat her like an adult whenever they were together, her parents clearly found it hard. Anytime Hermione suggested something, they simply nodded and turned back to Minerva.

It was incredibly frustrating.

Just as her mother's voice was finding its edge, Hermione stood.

"Stop," she said quickly. "Before we get derailed by frustration. The way I see it, is that Mum, Dad? You need to go into hiding. You live a far too open and expansive life for us to consider protecting you during it all and to ask you to curtail it clearly isn't going to work," she made a face and her mother had the decency to blush; Jenny did like her social lunches. "The options, as far as I can see it, are that you close up the practice for a while. There are other dentists in the area you are friends with that would take your patients. They would do that favour for you. To do so would mean you would have to stay at home wherever possible. That has its own dangers as the house and you, are still where it was prior to the spells. Should they find the location, which we can do our best to prevent, it would still be here." She glanced at Minerva who smiled encouragingly. "The second option is for you to leave. I realise that there are issues surrounding that as well, but it is the much safer option. I know," she held up her hand to stop her dad from speaking. "That you need a way to live. I don't have an answer for that. I have friends who would loan you some money to live, but" she rolled her eyes at the chorus of refusals. "I know you both would refuse."

"Quite right," Sam said testily.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, looking at Minerva. Stuck at a dead-end, they all fell silent as they considered their options.

"I realise," Jenny said, clearing her throat self-consciously as everyone looked at her. "That we aren't being very helpful, but you must understand that this is a big ask."

"We know, Mum," Hermione rubbed her forehead. "We really do."

"And I know you have seen the best of Hermione," she continues, turning to Minerva. Hermione squinted at her. "But we have not, so it is still a little bit of a shock to see her commanding the room like that. In our minds, she is still the little girl who walked around with her nose in a book and would miss dinner if we didn't remind her."

"Oh, she is still like that," Minerva chuckled, winking at Hermione. "But without a doubt, she is also one of our greatest assets," she smiled proudly. Hermione blushed under the scrutiny. "But I do understand. This process has highlighted to me how unfair we are being to our Muggle parents. There are some immovable issues, of course. Due to the spells on Hogwarts, we cannot offer tours and visits as I think some Muggle schools offer, but we also do nothing to ease the separation. We essentially ask you to put your children on a train in September and pick them up again the following year and assume you will be okay with everything that goes on in between. I -" Minerva got a strange look on her face and looked at Hermione carefully. "Hmm."

"What?" Hermione said, catching the twinkle in those green eyes. 

"I happen to own a cottage in one of the Wizarding villages; Banchory, just outside of Aberdeen. It is currently sitting empty after the previous tenants vacated recently and is quite near to the city. It is undoubtedly one of the most progressive towns in the UK, on our side, but also one of the smallest. I believe," she said carefully. "We could quietly move your parents into the bungalow, under the nose of the neighbours, and more importantly the Ministry. I have an idea of how they might earn some coin as well, while they are there." She turned back to Hermione's parents. "I, of course, would charge nothing for you to stay."

"Min -"

"That seems like a poor business strategy," Sam muttered, looking at her shrewdly. "What is your idea for us earning an income?"

"I am quite wealthy in my own right," Minerva said with just a little haughtiness to it. "And as I said, this has opened my eyes to how much growth we need to do as a school, moving forward. I would propose that you both, as intelligent and sensible people, become the Muggle ambassadors to Hogwarts."

Hermione's jaw dropped as she realised how brilliant Minerva really was.

"That's -"

"Quite brilliant, if I do say so myself," Minerva smirked, cutting her off. 

"How would that work?" Sam asked.

"At this stage I am unsure. I would have to propose it to Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster. At such a time as this, I don't think taking that proposal to the Board would be a good idea, nor making the position public, but there are procedural manuals that need to be," she winced. "Updated and amended. While I will not have time to join you very often, I will endeavour to make myself available to you, should you need me. Otherwise," she smiled encouragingly. "You could treat it as a working holiday?"

"Why wouldn't you take it to the Board at this time?" Hermione asked, genuinely interested in the process.

"One of the Board seats belong to the House of Malfoy, currently occupied by Lucius' wife, Narcissa while he is," she winked at Hermione. "Occupied elsewhere. It is best if none of the Malfoy household know where your parents are, though of the three of them she is the lesser evil."

Hermione swallowed at that, and rubbed her chest, remembering the Ministry quite clearly. Her mother, who was a very observant woman at the best of times, turned to her with a question on her face.

Hermione answered despite her reticence.

"Lucius Malfoy is a parent at the school. He is also arguably the most well-known, well-funded Death Eater," she muttered. She glanced at them and realised that their blank looks meant she had missed explaining that part. "Sorry. Death Eaters are Voldemort's henchman," she didn't like that word. "Generals," she shrugged. 

"That is a better word for them, yes," Minerva sighed. "They have sworn an oath to him as servants of the dark. An oath only Voldemort himself," she winced. "Or death, can release them from."

Hermione saw her mother's brain spinning fast and glanced at Minerva. There was a question coming that they would not like, but Minerva looked unworried. She settled her hands in her lap and waited.

"I have to say, Minerva, that when you explained Hogwarts to us, this was not in the brochure."

Hermione didn't know why she had worried. Minerva smiled for a moment, before chuckling and relaxing.

"You are quite right, of course. When I came to you, that September, I could not have imagined what would occur. I," she groaned and rubbed her temples. She winced as she hit the bruise and sat back again. "The unfortunate truth is that, when Hermione joined Hogwarts, she happened to arrive under a perfect storm of circumstances. Harry Potter, merely a babe when he defeated the Dark Lord, also returned to the Wizarding World for the first time since that day. His presence set off a chain reaction - some of which righted wrongs, some; more heartache. As sometimes happens, our government has grown fat and lazy with power and time. Had we had a more decisive Minister, things perhaps would have been different. For all of that, I can only apologise again."

Hermione watched her mother and Minerva stare at each other. Though it seemed pleasant enough, there was a conversation happening between them that Hermione could not read. Eventually, her mother stood and looked at both of them, before she turned back to Minerva.

"I'm rather hungry. I saw rather a large spread on the table and I'd like to thank you for that. What do we think about an early lunch, so that I can cook the turkey for a late dinner? Are you staying that long?"

Minerva smiled and stood, rubbing her hands together.

"What an excellent idea. And yes. We shall stay as long as Hermione wants, I have no plans to speak of."

Hermione watched the two women go and turned to her Dad.

"What was that?"

Her dad pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Peanut, I have no idea. Sometimes it's best just to nod and smile when she gets like that. It does take the stress out of things."

She laughed and they followed the two women into the kitchen.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Good evening. I have nothing to report. Give some love to Lib McGranger for her behind-the-scenes work on this. You honestly wouldn't have this without her. So... Do your thing ;)**
> 
> -0-

Christmas with her parents had been everything she had wanted it to be. It was pleasant and cheerful and downright fun at times. They had exchanged a few presents that each had quickly managed to find or make, but most of all, they had enjoyed each other's presence more than any gift one could give.

Minerva, with Hermione's help, had placed as many protections on the house as she could think of that night. She'd placed more the following morning, late morning; they had fallen asleep on the sofa in the living room after watching Christmas television well into the early hours. Minerva had not seen much television in the preceding years and Hermione had stayed up far later than she usually would, even on Christmas Day, watching Minerva watching it. 

The next morning a plan was formed to move her parents, quietly, to Banchory. The protections on the house were explained as best they could. Hermione warned them that the Postman might forget where their address was and to avoid inviting people to the house. Even invited, someone might get to the street and not be able to find the house, or forget why they made the trip over. That had raised a few chuckles from Sam as he made plans to invite his mother-in-law over, just to see her forget.

For that, he'd earned an amused slap on his arm.

Now though, on Boxing Day evening, Hermione was back on the window seat in the library of Minerva's home. Though she had only spent a few days there, it had quickly turned into her favourite place. She tucked herself into the corner and watched the snow blanket the mountains.

"That will likely be down here by tonight," Minerva's soft voice said behind her. It didn't startle her, she seemed to always know where Minerva was these days. She turned and smiled sadly. "Did it go very badly, do you think?" Minerva asked, sitting beside her and passing her a cup of tea.

"No," Hermione acknowledged as she smiled in thanks. "But it is always hard leaving them. Especially now. Even though I was more than ready to go -"

She was going to say  _ home _ , but she let Minerva make her own conclusions.

"I understand."

Hermione let that stand and sighed into her mug.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For the tea?" Hermione made a face. "Sorry," Minerva chuckled. "I regret that I did not think of it myself, or earlier." Hermione shrugged and leant her head on her knee while they fell silent and watched the window. "I did get a fabulous scarf out of it though."

That made Hermione snort. The scarf in question has been shared between family members for years. It wasn't ugly, or even low quality, but it had turned into a family tradition. A proverbial bad penny. Someone would be gifted it and that person would then re-gift it in a way that the next person could never refuse it. Her mother was a woman with a sense of humour, underneath it all. She explained this to Minerva, who developed a bright twinkle in her eye.

"I understand," she chuckled as she sipped her tea. "It is rather pleasant to be invited into such a family affair with no warning," she mused. Hermione refused to acknowledge that out loud. "Cruel," she chuckled. "But," she smiled as Hermione watched her. "Nice."

Hermione shifted and leant against Minerva's shoulder while they drank their tea. Minerva's prediction turned into reality rather quickly and soon they were watching the snow blanket the fields outside her home.

"It's so pretty," Hermione sighed.

"Do you want to go outside?" Minerva asked quietly as they watched.

"Would you be upset if I said no?"

"Not at all," she whispered. She shifted and Hermione picked her head up, thinking she was moving, but instead, Minerva settled more comfortably and wrapped her arm around Hermione's shoulder, pulling her back as she got comfortable herself. 

"I understand," she whispered into Hermione's hair. "I really do."

Hermione didn't have the energy or the inclination to ask, so they sat quietly watching the snow fall while they sipped their tea. As it often did, Hermione's mind ran away with her as she imagined sitting here for days while Minerva worked beside her.

Her mother's words had been rolling around her head for hours. It was interesting to her, that Harry Potter had noticed something about someone. As much as she adored Harry, he was not always emotionally aware of what was going around him. It was quite another thing to find out her mother had noticed something in the incredibly short time she'd spent in Minerva's company. It made her want to know what they were looking at, what secret clue they had found, but she was just as lost as before. Minerva McGonagall was just as enigmatic to Hermione as she was six months ago, even though Hermione could argue she now knew the woman better than ever.

"You are thinking so loudly," Minerva muttered, banishing the mugs back to the kitchen.

Hermione felt caught and scrambled to come up with an excuse. Realising there was something niggling at the back of her mind, she looked up at Minerva with a frown.

"How are you  _ really _ going to install my parents as Muggle ambassadors?"

Minerva had the good grace to blush.

"Once I realised the kind of people they were, I also realised there was very little I could say to them to make them agree, short of a compulsion charm," she chuckled, making Hermione grin. "So I bent the truth a little," she shrugged. "There is no way I would allow your parents to be attached to Hogwarts at the present time. That is more dangerous than leaving them where they are. I am not even going to tell Albus."

"But -" Hermione frowned, sitting up and staring. She regretted it instantly as she moved from Minerva's arms. "Then how do you -"

"I have the procedural manuals and they have not been updated since the forties, I think. I will make a show of letting your parents inspect them - nobody will miss them - and we shall keep them busy, whilst also keeping them safe."

"Oh my God, you're going to pay them yourself?" Hermione gaped. "Are you insane?"

Minerva laughed and Hermione's heart thumped a little louder.

"No love," she chuckled absently. Hermione's heart beat even faster. "They are still doing me a favour. I shall reward them accordingly. As you have seen," she looked around. "I have very few vices and no family. I have bags of money just taking up space."

"You -" Hermione was so confused she wasn't quite sure what to say. "Are you sure you're not a Slytherin?"

"Och!" Minerva protested. "I say!"

Hermione smiled, feeling like she was going to burst. 

"Thank you," she said, wrapping her arms around Minerva tightly and without warning.

Minerva arms wrapped around her middle as they teetered dangerously on the seat but she managed to pull Hermione closer and tighter.

"You are most welcome," she muttered, her lips caressing her skin on her temple.

Hermione felt so safe and so comfortable, she didn't move when it was clear that the hug had gone on a little longer than usual, but while she did not move, neither did Minerva. They stayed, curled around each other until night fell properly and Hermione had yawned more than once in the space of ten minutes.

"You should sleep," Minerva murmured.

"I'm fine," she insisted, around another yawn. Minerva chuckled.

"Well my bottom has gone quite numb so if you insist, I'm afraid I must move."

"Sorry," Hermione said.

"Don't be," Minerva grinned. "Help me up?"

Hermione took Minerva's hand, trying to remember that they were just friends, and helped her up and over to the sofa.

"Would you like to read?"

"Yeah," Hermione smiled. "Always," she shrugged.

Minerva laughed and took out her wand. After a few complicated movements that Hermione could only just follow, the sofa in the middle of the room was extended and altered to make a sort of nest. Soft, sloping back on all four sides and a square middle of overstuffed cushions.

"Ok, you have got to teach me that later," Hermione gaped. "That is awesome."

Minerva smirked and summoned her book. Hermione held her wand carefully, then remembered Minerva's lesson a few days prior and put it away. She remembered the conversation about intellectual magic users and their powers. She looked at the book she wanted to summon and tried to figure out how to summon it without the spell or a wand. As she was standing there, she could feel Minerva's eyes on her and every part of her pleaded with her magic just to do this one thing for her.

She was so busy trying to figure it all out that she quite missed it. It wasn't until she felt Minerva behind her that she stopped thinking.

"Be calm," Minerva whispered. She stepped up against her back and Hermione had to concentrate very hard to do as she was instructed and not on the heat from Minerva's body.

"I'm trying to -"

"Hush," Minerva chuckled. "Just look -"

She held Hermione's shoulders and turned her chin. Hermione, who was about to ask something else, gaped. Not only was  _ her _ book hovering above the floor, so were a hundred other books as well.

"Am I -"

"Aye," she said gently. "Now very carefully, slide them back into their shelves."

"How?" Hermione asked, her voice pinched with panic.

"Calm," Minerva said gently, her thumbs digging into Hermione's shoulders blissfully. "Just think about them in their previous spaces. A generalised idea of them on the shelves should work."

She did so and watched with her eyes wide as they all slid back into their spots.

"Do you know how I -"

"No, I have absolutely no idea how you did that first time," Minerva beamed when the last book was in its place. "But it was fantastic!"

"I didn't mean it though," Hermione admitted.

Minerva chuckled and summoned the book she knew Hermione had been reading previously and led them to the sofa.

"I know," she winked. She nodded Hermione into the nest of cushions and followed after her. "I realised when the third book left its place," she grinned. "Regardless, that was quite spectacular."

"What does that mean?"

Minerva settled beside her, rolling and propping her head up on her hand. She stared for a long while until Hermione felt like a bug under a magnifying glass.

"Sorry." Minerva shook her head after she had noticed Hermione's discomfort. "What were you thinking about when it happened?"

Thankfully she hadn't been thinking of anything sordid.

"Just about willing it to work," Hermione shrugged. She considered it for a while longer and Minerva seemed to be waiting for her to do so. "Ok, actually, I was willing it to work but also thinking about the connotations of magic uses being," she made air quotes with her fingers. "Unencumbered by wands and spells."

Minerva watched her with a soft smile on her face.

"I think," she said gently. "That you might very well change the world, Hermione Granger," she chuckled. "And I for one cannot wait to see how."

"You did promise," Hermione whispered, feeling suddenly desperate to remind Minerva of that promise.

"I did," Minerva muttered. Her eyes remained locked on Hermione's before she nodded. "I  _ do _ promise."

Hermione couldn't do anything but nod and Minerva pulled her forward quickly, kissing her forehead before settling on her back, one arm under her head, and picking up her book.

Hermione followed suit. The book was fascinating and she had in mind she might read until Minerva fell asleep, but it was her eyes that started to feel heavy first. 

"Sleep," Minerva whispered as she nearly dropped her book on her face for the third time.

She took the book from Hermione's hands and placed her own bookmark in the pages. Putting it on the arm, she nodded Hermione closer.

"Come here," Minerva muttered. Hermione went, and Minerva pulled her close. "Sleep. We'll be quite warm in here." 

Hermione couldn't breathe, let alone speak, and her last thought of the evening as she fell asleep in Minerva's arms, was that this experience had been the best few days of her life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: I know some of you may not have read my non-HGMM work but you really ought to be warned... When you feel like they're getting all soft and comfortable and it's lovely. Don't get comfortable lol This is 27 chapters long ;) There's a ways to go yet, dear ones.**
> 
> **Thanks, as ever, to the wonderful Lib McGranger.**
> 
> -0-

"Oi!"

Hermione huffed as her quill slid across her parchment without her control. She glared a little at Ginny but couldn't hold it for too long; she really had been a great friend since New Year's Eve.

"Sorry," Ginny said easily. "Are you coming to Hogsmede?"

"Probably not," she shrugged. "I have things to do."

"Mhmm," Ginny grinned. Hermione squinted at her smile and put down her quill. 

"What?"

"Oh nothing," Ginny smirked. "Only that I happen to know that there's been additional personnel added to the chaperone list."

"What?" Hermione frowned, turning to face her properly. "What do you mean?"

"She's back."

Hermione gaped. Minerva had disappeared, from class, days ago on what Hermione assumed was Order business.

Despite their growing closeness, she hadn't seen Minerva to talk to since they had said goodbye to each other at Minerva's house on the 29th. Though she held it together at the time, as soon as she'd arrived at The Burrow and nodded quiet hellos to the Weasleys, she'd run upstairs and fallen onto her bed sobbing. Ginny had followed and sat with her while she cried. Eventually, she managed to coax Hermione out of her sadness and they'd talked about everything that had happened while she'd been away. At the end of it, Ginny had smiled and pronounced them practically married. Hermione had screamed with laughter and then burst back into tears.

The levity had helped, though. Hermione had eventually fallen asleep, clutching her pillow and awoke refreshed and resolute about it all. After a shower and a long, silent, conversation in the mirror she pulled herself together and had truly enjoyed the rest of their holidays. They'd played and laughed and if anything, her love for Harry, Ginny, Fred and George had deepened. She wasn't sure Fred and George knew of her feelings for Minerva exactly, but they had all done their best to take her mind off being sad.

Ron, on the other hand, was not talking to any of them. After his outburst at the game, Fred and George had taken to 'accidentally' tripping him down the stairs whenever possible. According to the tale weaved by Ginny and Harry, Molly had been inconsolable after the first few incidents, but apparently, in the time since Hermione had been away, it had happened so often that Molly no longer even looked up when he cried out. What made Hermione smirk just a little more, was the odd bludger that just _happened_ to appear in his room whenever he was alone. The morning after she got back, one had appeared and had apparently tried to kill him. In an effort to defend himself he'd set his Chudley Cannons poster on fire and while she didn't laugh, she did bite back a smile when Fred winked at her.

New Year's Eve had, despite her melancholy, been lovely. The whole Weasley family, minus Percy of course, had spent the night watching Fred and George's fireworks. Their shop had been trading for barely six months and they were already doing so well. It had made her happy to know that there were others doing good in the world, even if she sometimes didn't understand it. Through it all though, she had looked forward to seeing Minerva again, once they returned to school. Reality had turned out quite differently. While she had seen Minerva in class, they had not found the time to have tea and chat. In fact, Hermione sometimes felt like the whole thing had been a dream.

Then, three days ago, a bowl of baked beans had arrived at breakfast, right in front of her. She had frowned at it for a long time. The Elves weren't prone to making food like that, especially at breakfast, and it took her much longer than it should have to realise that someone had ordered them just for her. Finally understanding what it might mean, she had looked up at the Staff Table, only to find Minerva's seat mysteriously empty.

It had remained empty at lunch and it wasn't until the last lesson of the day that they found out why. In Minerva's place, at the front of the class, was a man they'd never seen before. He had introduced himself as Professor Jones; Professor McGonagall's temporary replacement while she was indisposed. Harry had looked at her puzzled, but she'd shrugged. It had left a bad taste in her mouth ever since.

" _Hello?_ "

She blinked, looked up at Ginny.

"Sorry," she shook her head. "What?"

"So?" Ginny grinned. "Are you coming to Hogsmede?"

"Of course I am," Hermione grinned. "Why wouldn't I?"

Ginny laughed and drew Hermione's cloak, scarf and hat from over the back of the sofa where she'd left them and offered it up to her. 

"Well then, let's go!"

They ran out of the Common Room while Hermione struggled with her cloak and just made it outside in time for the headcount before they were allowed to leave. As they stepped forward, she saw Minerva for the first time in what felt like forever and stopped dead in her tracks.

To put it plainly, she looked awful. She was clearly exhausted, she had a pallor that was terrifyingly pale and there was a darkness in her eyes that Hermione didn't like at all. But, more importantly, Minerva seemed to have adopted a rather bizarre stance as she stood next to Professor Flitwick, who called out names while she marked the Parchment of Attendance. As most of the group started off down the path, she watched carefully from the back as Minerva took a step forward and winced, her hand going to Professor Flitwick's shoulder suddenly. She continued to watch as the two Professors had a heated, whispered conversation.

"She looks terrible."

"Do you mind if I don't come? There's something definitely not right."

"Nah," Ginny muttered. "I'll tell Flitwick."

She squeezed Ginny's hand and let her go first, stepping through the crowd as though it wasn't there. Her sole focus was Minerva and the white-knuckle grip she had on Professor Flitwick's shoulder. He was small, but he seemed much stronger than she would have imagined. As Ginny popped up in front of them, Minerva had been forced to let go as he stepped back to avoid bumping into her. Hermione pounced, her arm going through Minerva's and her body at a slight angle to accommodate the weight she knew she'd feel once Minerva realised she was safe.

"I -" she sighed as she saw Hermione. "Hello."

"Hi," Hermione whispered evenly. "What are you doing?"

"My duty."

"Hmm," Hermione nodded. "So you neglected to tell anyone just how hurt you are and nobody has bothered to tell you to rest?"

Minerva's cheeks went pink as they watched Professor Flitwick and Ginny leave them, along with the stragglers from the back of the group, leaving them in front of the castle, quite alone.

"In the hour or so since I've been back, the ones I have spoken to have had plenty to say, actually," Minerva huffed.

Hermione chuckled even as Minerva glared at her.

"Ginny said she'd tell Professor Flitwick, do you need to tell anyone else you're not going?"

"No," she conceded eventually. "I was an extra pair of eyes."

"Martyr." Hermione rolled her eyes. "You need rest and care. And somewhere to sit.

"I might," she acknowledged. "Poppy is otherwise engaged today. Would," she hesitated. "Would you do it?"

"I will certainly try," Hermione smiled, her thumb rubbing Minerva's arm a little. "Do you have first-aid things in your room?"

"I am, unfortunately, out of my supplies. With all that happened, I did not think to restock before I left."

"You should have said, I have some spares you could have taken," Hermione muttered, her brain already three steps forward. "No matter. I know where to go."

"Oh," Minerva winced as she stepped forward. 

"What is it?" Hermione asked as she moved back to Minerva's side. 

"An ill-dodged _Diffindo._ "

"Minerva!"

"I know," she groaned. "It could not be helped. I only got back this morning."

"Bloody hell. Alright, come on."

She wrapped her arm around Minerva's waist, readjusting to avoid the wince she made when she took more of her weight. Minerva groaned and leant more of her weight against Hermione. She wrapped an arm around her and held on tightly as they set off. It was a long way, but Hermione walked Minerva carefully to the Room of Requirement and asked it for somewhere to rest and heal. She opened the door to something out of a dream. Soft, inviting sofas with a full medical bay at the back of the room.

"Perfect," Hermione nodded, leading Minerva in.

"I have heard of this place," Minerva muttered, looking around in wonder. "But I have never been inside. How did you find it?"

"Um," Hermione considered it. "I think Harry found it first. This is where we trained for Dumbledore's Army though," she chuckled, meeting Minerva's surprised eyes. "It will turn into anything you need if you ask at the door. I'd like to spend ten years researching it."

Minerva perched on the sofa with a groan. 

"I am sure you would."

Once she was settled, Hermione stepped back and looked at her.

"Don't fret," Minerva muttered, refusing to meet her eye. "I'm fine."

"You promised."

"And I am here," she said testily.

"I assumed, Minerva, that your promise would include general ill-health and injury!"

The tension that had been creeping between them broke and Minerva scoffed.

"I know," she sighed. "I am getting old."

"No you're not," Hermione rolled her eyes. "What is more likely is that you should have told Professor Dumbledore that you needed more time." Minerva's lips twitched but she didn't reply. Hermione remembered that the woman was in some pain. "Alright. Give me the list."

"I -" she huffed and tried to stand.

"What are you doing?"

"This is ridiculous."

"No it's not," Hermione said, kneeling on the floor beside the sofa. Minerva stopped struggling and with some help, lay back with a groan.

"You should not have to spend your life looking after me."

"I assumed that was what," she swallowed. "Friends did for one another, no?" she waited for Minerva to finally glance her way. "It's what I've been doing for Harry these last six years, at any rate." Minerva did laugh at that and groaned, clutching her middle. "Broken ribs?" Hermione asked lightly, giving her an amused look.

"Aye," Minerva winced. "Wicked bruising. A stone wall fell atop me."

"Hopeless," Hermione muttered. "Diffindo to the leg. What else?"

"They are the two primary issues."

"And that," she said, pushing Minerva's hair off her damp forehead. "Was not what I asked."

She knew she was pushing her luck, but if she wanted to help, she would need to know exactly what was ailing her.

"You realise that you sound exactly like Poppy, don't you?"

"I am doing well, then," Hermione smiled, sighing as she leant closer. In a moment of bravery, she cupped Minerva's cheek and turned her face towards her own. "Min? Please?"

She pulled a face and smiled.

"You are far too good for this world, Hermione Granger," Minerva said quietly.

"I just care about you," she said without thinking. Realising what she'd said, she clamped her mouth closed and pulled away. "Right," she said, trying to stop her hands from shaking. "First things first, I suppose. Let me look at your leg?"

"I," Minerva's face turned a deep red and Hermione suddenly realised the position she was in.

"Um," she said carefully. "Where -"

"Top of my thigh," Minerva winced. "Just here."

She motioned vaguely to just under her right hip and buttock and Hermione let out a breath. For one gloriously terrifying moment, she had tried her hardest not to imagine Minerva's inner thighs. But now, she was trying not to imagine her arse as well.

"Well. Right. Let's -" she looked around, spying some things she would need in the medical section. The Room of Requirement also helped, providing a throw on the back of the sofa for their use. "Oh," she chuckled, picking it up. "It's so soft. Thank you," she called. Minerva smiled, despite the situation and Hermione lay the blanket over her. "I know it's uncomfortable for you, but it might be worth undressing. Two birds with one stone or whatever," she winced and shook her head. "However you want to do it. I'll be over there and we can work out how this will work when I get back, okay?"

"Fine," Minerva nodded.

Hermione nodded again and turned, stopping as a strong hand gripped hers, the thumb twitched against the inside of her wrist. 

"Thank you," Minerva husked. "I know I am being difficult, but I -"

"You are not being difficult," Hermione muttered. She turned her hand over and took Minerva's. "You're uncomfortable, in pain," she shrugged. "But it will be okay. I'll do what I can and when Madam Pomfrey gets back, you must make sure you go and see her?"

"I promise," Minerva smiled.

"Alright," Hermione nodded. "I'll be right back. Get comfortable."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Just in case you have all forgotten, I am not a doctor. I do however know there are specific places on the body where you can get seriously hurt without causing serious damage. I am not entirely sure this is one of them, so just roll with it ;)**
> 
> **Praise Lib McGranger for her eyes and her common sense. Em would have you all floating around Merlin-knows-where in the pursuit of floatiness.**
> 
> -0-

Hermione pulled the things she needed from the cupboards that the Room of Requirement had provided. Bandages, gauze and some Bruise Paste for Minerva's ribs. She found a cupboard of pain potions and took a few for pain and a few others she recognised. She looked down at the things, in a little metal tray like in the movies and took a deep breath. This was not how she'd imagined seeing Minerva's body for the first time and she wasn't sure it was how she  _ wanted _ to see it for the first time. But needs must and Minerva was hurting. That took precedence over everything.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked before she turned.

"I am," Minerva said, sounding small.

"Ok," she nodded. "Let's do this."

She carried the tray onto a little rolling table that appeared by her side and wheeled it over to Minerva's side. She smiled in what she hopes was a supportive way and set everything out on the tray when she paused.

"Oh, hang on. Need to wash my hands."

She went back, and did so, scrubbing extra carefully to make sure that nothing could go wrong. 

She stepped in front of Minerva and sat on the stool that had appeared as well. She sat looking at her clean hands and wished she could squeeze Minerva's hand before she started.

"Okay?" Minerva asked.

"Yep," Hermione nodded. "Just," she sighed. "Don't want to make things worse."

"You won't," Minerva smiled, looking a little pink, but less uncomfortable. "I trust you."

"If I can't do it, I'll go and find Madam Pomfrey, wherever she is, deal?"

"Yes."

Hermione nodded and uncorked a pain potion, pausing before she handed it over.

"Have you had one yet?"

"No," Minerva winced. "Remind me to restock."

Hermione nodded and handed it over, watching as she took it, before settling herself and holding out her hand.

" _ Accio Dittany. _ "

A bottle of Essence of Dittany floated to her outstretched hand and she grinned proudly.

"You'll be doing wandless, silent casting before long," Minerva noted. "It won't be long until you realise just how powerful you are, Hermione Granger."

"Well," Hermione blushed. "Not like you."

"Oh," Minerva chuckled. "I think, perhaps, you will surprise yourself."

Hermione agreed to disagree and sat forward.

"How do you want to do this?" she asked, looking up at Minerva. "I only need to see that part of you, I guess. Can you move the blanket? Get comfortable?"

"I will," Minerva said. She blushed again and Hermione did too. Instead of adding to the awkwardness, Hermione studied the ceiling while the rustle of fabric filled the space between them. "I am ready," Minerva muttered as it went quiet again.

Hermione nodded and grabbed her Essence of Dittany.

"Oh Minerva!" she gasped. The position they were in was easy to disregard once she saw the wound properly. "This is -"

"I'm sure it's not the worst I've received," Minerva muttered as she looked over her shoulder. "And fine," she said after a moment, though she could not meet Hermione's eyes. "Quite a bit worse than I perhaps let on. So far as I could tell. It is hard to twist with broken ribs."

"Oh god," Hermione said, pressing her lips together. "I'm pretty sure that's your bone."

"That explains the pain," Minerva winced.

"Okay. Okay," Hermione said, more deep breaths, all thoughts of Minerva's long, bare legs taken over by the horror. "Okay."

"Breathe," Minerva said gently. "It is alright."

"You're not looking at this."

"I'm feeling it," Minerva smirked. "Relax."

"You do realise that six inches higher or three inches the other way and I," she choked. "We might have lost you!"

"I do," Minerva said. She reached out slowly and touched Hermione's knee, before squeezing it gently. "I do, Hermione."

Her name on Minerva's lips galvanised her resolve and she nodded sharply. She leant forward and peered closer. 

"I'm going to need more light," she muttered to herself. Minerva shook her wand like a two-bit Muggle magician and it lit up with a stream of light. "Show off," she mused. Minerva chuckled but Hermione was now solely focussed on what was before her. Thankfully it was a clean cut and there didn't seem to be too much internal damage that she could see. Minerva had cast a stasis spell on it and in doing so had managed to stop it from bleeding too much. 

"Normal stasis?" she asked efficiently.

"Yes," Minerva nodded.

"Can you remove it?"

"I can."

"Do so and then I'll see how the bleeding is. I'm not sure if a stasis just pauses the healing or whether it allows healing below it. Guess I'm about to find out."

Minerva smiled and whispered a  _ Finite _ on her thigh. The wound shimmered beneath the magic and cleared. It didn't look any better than Hermione imagined it would. She could see the striations of the muscles and the nerves. She had a sudden thought that Minerva may not feel much afterwards.

"Okay," she whispered. "I don't know if this will hurt," she shivered. "I know your tolerance to pain potions is high. You might have permanent nerve damage, but please try not to move," she cautioned. She glanced up at Minerva who shrugged.

"I keep telling you I've had worse," she muttered.

"I cannot even imagine," Hermione muttered. "Hold still. Scream if you need to but don't move."

"I shall not be screaming, Hermione Granger," Minerva chuckled.

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing the effects of the pain potion must have kicked in if Minerva was being so blasé about it. Instead of saying so, she reached out. She watched her hand like it didn't belong to her as she touched Minerva's thigh and pushed one side of the wound closer to the other.

" _ Fuck _ ," Minerva hissed as the two sides touched and Hermione dribbled some Essence of Dittany into the wound. 

True to her word, Minerva stayed perfectly still as the wound hissed and spat. Hermione tried to remain calm and waited for the tissue to knit together. She prayed she had enough Essence of Dittany to do the whole wound as she realised just how long it would take. She glanced up at Minerva and winced at how pale she'd gone. She considered saying something supportive but decided the kindest thing would be to just get on with it and finish it. She did so, her eyes filling with tears as Minerva's muttered curses got weaker and her voice broke.

"Stop," she moaned. "Oh please stop."

"One more Min, just a little more, then it will be enough to hold it."

The whimper she heard in response broke her heart. She wished, absently, for some butterfly stitches - like the one the School Nurse had put on her hand the time she'd fallen on the playground. True to form, the Room of Requirement was a steadfast aide to her mission and a strip appeared on the tray.

"Oh," she nodded in thanks. " _ Engorgio _ ."

It grew to a more reasonable size for such a wound and she managed to figure out how to use it quickly. She taped the two sides down and let go gently. Hermione cleaned her hands as best as she could and took Minerva's hand in hers. She hadn't expected the strong squeeze on her fingers and squeaked. Minerva let go immediately. 

"Breathe," Hermione counselled gently. She took Minerva's hand back. "It's okay. I've stopped for now. Breathe, Minerva." There were tears running down her face and sweat on her temples and top lip. Hermione's heart broke. "I'm sorry." It seemed like Minerva couldn't speak but she shook her head and squeezed Hermione's hand, gentler this time. After a bit of contortion, Hermione managed to reach one of the gauze pads and used it to mop Minerva's face. "It's alright."

Minerva closed her eyes and Hermione ran her hand through Minerva's hair over and over. 

"How bad?" Minerva eventually managed to growl.

"It was bad. It's less bad now."

"Hermione," she hissed. 

"We're just over halfway." Minerva sagged. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," she sighed. "Can you finish it?"

"I can. I don't want to."

"Not as much as I don't want you to," Minerva huffed. She rolled her eyes and stopped talking. 

Hermione just watched. 

Under her gaze, Minerva seemed to build herself back up. One moment, she was Minerva: the quiet, intelligent woman that laughed and joked and articulated her feelings and in the next, she was Professor Minerva McGonagall: the stalwart battle-axe of Hogwarts. Hermione was well acquainted with the Professor, but there was a hardness in her eyes that Hermione had never seen before. She knew of Minerva's prowess in battle, though had never seen it and deduced that  _ this _ was Minerva from The Order. This woman was the one that fought tooth and nail for freedom and equality and good. Minerva's hand let go of Hermione's, but she said nothing. It was enough of a sign for Hermione to continue and so she did. Faster and more efficiently. She saw a dropper appear on the tray and knew it would help direct the Dittany better than she'd been doing and so used it to fill in the gaps she'd missed, concentrating solely on her task and not on Minerva's face.

What seemed like an hour went by when she sat up with a quiet groan. It was not perfect. It was not even fully closed, but it would do. She had concentrated on sealing it from the bottom, reckoning by logic alone that should there be any pockets of air below sealed skin, an infection could develop. To that end, she left some of the skin open and set to work dressing it. She gently pressed some gauze on top and set about bandaging it. Thoughts of Minerva's anatomy had gone out of the window as she wound the bandage around Minerva's thigh until she had run out. She stuck it down with a sticking charm and stepped back, staring at her hands. 

They still seemed to belong to someone else. She could barely feel a thing, but they were shaking uncontrollably. She blinked and took a deep breath. And then blinked again. Gradually, she managed to claw back her resolve until she felt near to normal again. Finally, she looked up to see Minerva, white-knuckled and clutching a pillow to her chest. As Hermione took a step closer, she saw blood on her lip, where she'd bitten it.

"Oh, Min," she breathed.

Hermione stepped forward and extended the couch without even thinking. She gently knelt behind Minerva and turned her a little, soothing the tense features with soft fingers.

"It's okay," she whispered. She slid her arm underneath Minerva's neck and rubbed her other thumb along those fine cheekbones. After a time, she witnessed the tightness around Minerva's eyes fade. "It's done for now," she promised. "I won't touch it again. It's okay."

Minerva opened her eyes groggily. She looked up and their eyes met and Hermione felt like every one of her nerve endings had fired all at once. Forgetting propriety, and pretending she didn't feel like she felt, she bent down further and wrapped her arms around Minerva properly. For a brief moment, she wondered if she had got it wrong, but then Minerva's hands gripped her forearms where they crossed over her chest and Minerva McGonagall burst into tears.

Had someone asked her beforehand what she expected to come out of this experience, she would not have picked anything close to this outcome. But that didn't matter. She pulled Minerva as close to her as she could and held her as tightly as she dared. Hermione's knee went between the cushions, onto something really hard and painful. The angle was wrong, Hermione's lower back was crying out, but she held on because Minerva held on. She could hear the immense pain in Minerva's soul. So Hermione just held on tighter, taking care to put as little pressure as possible on Minerva's ribs but making sure she could feel that she was not alone. She tried to soothe the woman, but it seemed as though it was one thing too many and Minerva just cried and cried until she could cry no more. 

And there they stayed. Minerva's breath came in fits and starts and Hermione held her tightly, contorted uncomfortably on the sofa. Despite it all, she did not want to be anywhere else in the world.

The room was so silent, Hermione could hear the odd student walk past the wall to the Castle. The blanket, which covered Minerva's front and most of her middle, left her back mostly exposed. Her skin was littered with scars that whispered of a life hard-lived and freckles that made Hermione smile sadly. Shimmering black bra straps framed four circular scars, two either side of her spine, that made Hermione's heart ache. As she rubbed her chin on Minerva's shoulders to distract herself, she sighed against her neck and whispered that it would be alright. The sudden noise seemed to awaken something in Minerva and just as Hermione was about to speak again, Minerva stiffened and let go. The blanket, which had fallen down to her middle was now clutched right to her chin.

"Miss Granger, I -"

"What?" Hermione asked. She tried to catch Minerva's eye, but she was staring resolutely at the back of the sofa and not at Hermione. "Minerva -"

"I beg your pardon, I don't know what -"

"Really?" Hermione asked testily. She stood and put her hands on her hips while she waited. Minerva had the decency to stop and turn a little to look at her. She bit her lip, then winced as she found the wound from earlier. "Minerva, come on. Don't -"

"I did not mean to do that to you."

"Do what to me?" Hermione chuckled. "Break down? Seek comfort? I've just performed surgery on you. While you were awake. With nothing but an average potion to numb the pain!"

"I," Minerva sagged. "Fine, if you put it like that, I see your point."

"Well, I broke down on you, only recently in fact, over a lot, lot less. And we shall say nothing of the  _ Boggart _ incident in Third Year. We're even." She had meant for it to be funny, and Minerva found it to be so as well. She snorted and covered her mouth as her face flushed. "It's alright," Hermione smiled. "It was ridiculous, in hindsight."

"Charming," Minerva soothed as she rolled carefully into her back with a soft groan. "But yes," she laughed. "A little ridiculous."

"There's a play on words there that we both missed so, we'll move on."

Minerva sighed and nodded. The blanket just covered her chest but above it, Hermione could see the four corresponding circles that shone in the light of the room. She blinked and pretended she had not been staring as Minerva spoke again.

"It does feel better," she said gruffly after a time. "Thank you. I know that wasn't easy."

"To say that it is an impressive wound, in the understatement of the century," Hermione winced. "You will probably have a wicked scar and I don't know enough about Essence of Dittany to know whether it simply knits flesh back together or whether it 'heals' so," she frowned. "I'm quite sure there're a lot of nerves there."

"I'll be able to sit on the floor for much longer if my bum doesn't go numb."

There was a prolonged silence before Hermione burst out laughing.

"Minerva!"

She smirked and closed her eyes with a deep sigh. Hermione watched her for a beat before she sat back down beside her.

"Do you want me to look at your ribs?"

"What is the time?" Minerva asked, rubbing her wrist where the usual small silver watch was absent.

"I have no clue, actually," Hermione said, wondering herself. "Did you forget your watch?"

"No," Minerva whispered sadly. "I lost it, in the skirmish."

"Oh," Hermione said again. "Are you -"

"It was my grandmother's."

Hermione looked helplessly at Minerva. She fought for words of comfort or support but knew there was nothing she could say to help.

"Where were you?"

"Why," Minerva grumbled. "It won't be there. There's no point."

"There's always hope, Minerva," Hermione whispered as she reached forward and took her hand. "Always."

"Goodrich Castle," she huffed. "Just outside the Forest of Dean."

"I've camped near there. I'll remember," Hermione nodded. "Just in case."

Minerva shook her head morosely and Hermione remembered she needed to find the time, regardless of Minerva's state of mind. She did not own a watch, nor did she think to bring anything with her for that purpose. They rarely needed to know the time when everyone around them seemed to.

At that moment, her pocket grew hot and she reached into it, pulling out her Dumbledore's Army coin. She and Harry had agreed to use them in times of emergency, beyond Dumbledore's Army. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the time displayed.

"Blimey, I think it's nearly lights out!"

"What?" Minerva asked, sitting up with a groan. "Oh."

"Careful," she said, springing to Minerva's aide. "Careful."

"I need to go."

"I know, but let me help. I don't know whether you should even be standing, so I'll help, alright?"

"I -"

She'd never seen Minerva so flustered and only belatedly realised what the matter was. In order to help Minerva back into her robes, Minerva would have to drop the blanket and as already evident, she was not wearing much at all.

"My eyes will be right here," she said, looking into Minerva's. "The whole time. I just want to make sure you don't fall."

"You're making me sound ancient again," Minerva quipped, though she wore a tight smile. "Very well. Merlin knows I will need it."

"Where are your robes?"

"On the table there."

"I'll get them and come back here and help you up. Alright?"

Minerva nodded and Hermione did what she set out to do, laying the robes by their seats while she stood.

"I'm going to look over there," Hermione nodded to the back of the room. "And help you up. Alright?"

"Fine," Minerva huffed.

She held out her hands and felt Minerva's grip her tightly. Setting her feet, she held fast and pulled as Minerva got up, steadying her when she winced and leaned onto her good leg.

"Steady," Hermione said quietly. "I've got you."

"That was habit," Minerva winced, testing the injured leg. "It hurts far less than it did."

"Good," Hermione smiled. "Your ribs?"

"I might borrow that bruise paste. I should be able to put it on myself, I think."

"Alright," Hermione nodded, trying not to be disappointed. "It would not be a terrible idea to use this opportunity," she said, waving to the table full of potions. "It's clearly all real, take as much as you need to stock up. I will do the same. Can you dress?"

"I have been dressing myself for a very long time, Hermione," Minerva chuckled, looking through the little tray with the bottles of Pain Potion that they had not used. "I will be fine."

"Alright." Hermione nodded and turned around. "I'll wait here, just in case."

Once again, the rustle of fabric filled the space. She heard a few disgruntled noises and then a huff.

"I'm stuck."

Hermione bit her lip to stop from giggling.

"In what way?"

"I cannot put my robes on because of my blasted ribs, it hurts too much to raise my arm."

"And they're stuck -"

"At my elbows."

"Right," Hermione nodded. "Deep breath. I'm just going to help."

Taking her own advice, she spun around, and for a split second, revelled in the vista that was Minerva McGonagall. She had known the woman was slender, but the soft outline of muscle below alabaster skin, now marred with dark, black bruising was something to behold. Her eyes widened at just how much bruising there was before she shook herself and moved to help her.

"See enough?" Minerva huffed.

Hermione blushed.

"If you had been honest about your bruising, I perhaps would not have had to stare."

"Touche," Minerva grumbled.

Hermione pulled on her robes and straightened out the collar as Minerva ran her hand in front of them, doing the buttons magically.

"There," Hermione smiled. "As good as," she paused. "Well. Not new. But you're doing alright."

"Cheeky witch," Minerva shook her head. They stood, barely inches apart as Hermione got trapped in Minerva's gaze. "You are one of the very best friends a person can have, Hermione Granger," Minerva whispered, her good hand cupping Hermione's cheek. "I shall not forget this."

"Thank you. And, in the interest of being honest, I'd k -" she paused. "Seriously maim, to look like you," she smirked even as she leaned into Minerva's palm a little. Minerva snorted and shook her head. "But I'll make sure to call you on that favour, one day."

"Cheeky." Minerva rolled her eyes, but a very pretty blush appeared on her cheeks. 

Hermione broke away and divided up the pain potions and the pastes and the various other things into two piles. She placed hers in her robe pocket and placed the rest in the tray for Minerva. Minerva looked it over and nodded before she banished it to her room.

"Come, I shall escort you back."

"No way," Hermione argued. "I'll escort  _ you _ back. You need to put some bruise paste on," she stepped back and waved her hand in front of Minerva's entire torso. "All of that. And get some rest. And you had better believe that if I have to go to Albus Dumbledore myself, to tell him that you need time to recover, I will."

"Bloody hell," Minerva groaned. "Fine," she said, with a barely concealed smirk. "As much as I would love to see that, I shall follow your orders." Hermione preened a little, until Minerva poked her side, making her laugh. "Come along, trouble," Minerva said. "Help an old woman home."

"You're not old," Hermione rolled her eyes. "With a body like that?" she quipped again. Minerva groaned. "You're wounded, Minerva. I thought you were supposed to be intelligent."

Minerva's laughter rang through the now empty corridor as they peered both ways and exited the room. 

When Hermione slid into bed that night, she couldn't help the smile that would not leave her face. Thoughts of Minerva's pristine skin and the feel of her palm on her cheek chased away any nightmares that might have arisen from their medical emergency and she slept peacefully for the rest of the night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: I'm well aware that Wands Up didn't happen in the book, but honestly, it's about the only bit of the movies that anyone did right, in my opinion, so we roll with it.**
> 
> **Thank you, as always, to the Lib McGranger for her help.**
> 
> -0-
> 
> ** Trigger Warning **  
> _for the death of Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore: Order of Merlin (first class), Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, but most importantly: Minerva McGonagall's best friend._
> 
> -0-

Hermione's entire body was numb. There was not a single thing that she could feel and there was a whining in her ears that would not seem to quiet. As she, and what felt like the rest of the student body, spilt out into the Courtyard, even her heart seemed to go quiet.

Albus Dumbledore was dead.

She glanced up at the sky, to where the tower stood stark against the swirling clouds of evil that still hung there, and saw her best friend. Her Harry. Looking down at them from above. She had known that he'd left the castle with Dumbledore. She'd felt the coin she carried warm in her pocket in warning. She had felt the terror as she heard the bells toll and the doors seal shut. She had sat in the Common Room, her hand wrapped around Ginny's, helplessly chewing on her fingernails. She had known that it would have been Minerva leading the battle, along with The Order, against Draco and his band of Death Eaters.

_Minerva._

She looked around hurriedly and found the woman standing in front of Dumbledore's broken body, staring. Everything felt so quiet but even over the whine in her ears, she could hear the waves of whispers. Like the tide breaking on a desolate shore. She took one step forward. The students parted in front of her.

Another step.

More moved out of her way. Like they knew where she was going.

Another. 

The whispers grew louder as she moved to Minerva's side, standing beside her and staring at Dumbledore's body. Harry stumbled through the doors and followed in her footsteps, pushing past the other students to get to Dumbledore's side. He dropped to his knees and Hermione's heart shattered as he gently smoothed the hair from Dumbledore's face.

A shuddering breath from her side caught her attention and she turned to look at Minerva, whose eyes were fixed on the scene before them. Hermione didn't speak. She couldn't. Her face was damp from tears and the sadness that permeated the stone around them heaved with an emptiness that Dumbledore had filled. Instead, she swallowed a sob and reached over, sliding her pinky into Minerva's.

She watched as Minerva's eyes closed at the contact. They stood silent and resolute until she heard another shuddering breath. Minerva's wand shifted into her other hand and without looking or letting go, she raised her wand into the air and pointed it at the sky. Hermione followed suit, and then Madam Pomfrey, Luna, Ron and of all their classmates and teachers. No spell was spoken, but their pain and sadness - their love - lit the sky in Dumbledore's memory and removed the sickening mark of his death. Harry's sobs into Ginny's shoulder permeated the silence.

Just as she was about to slide their fingers together, Minerva shook off her hand, spun, and left the courtyard without a word.

For reasons Hermione could not name, Madam Pomfrey looked up at that moment and their eyes met. She did not know what conversation they had in the silence, but after a moment, Madam Pomfrey nodded once in the direction Minerva had just gone and Hermione understood. She turned, just as suddenly, and followed Minerva back into the castle. Just as she reached the doors, she saw Minerva disappear from where she stood. In her place, a pretty tabby cat with spectacle-shaped eye markings. It looked balefully at Hermione before sprinting away at a pace only a cat could keep.

Hermione sighed but kept a more leisurely pace back to Minerva's quarters. Albus Dumbledore had been Minerva's friend and colleague for more years than Hermione had lived. The woman could have some time to fall apart. Hermione would help build her up again.

They had grown closer since the _Diffindo_ emergency. Instead of being too busy, they had decided, independent of each other, to make time to meet outside of class. Minerva had summoned her at odd hours, whenever she had time, just for a cup of tea or a chat. Hermione had, of course, dropped everything to attend. Through it all, they learned and talked and studied. They had laughed when it was necessary and cried when that was, too. Minerva had spent countless hours holding a sobbing Hermione, who bemoaned how unfair life was, and how angry she was at Ron, or how much she hurt for Harry taking on the world alone. Hermione, in turn, had eased Minerva's sorrows when the Order's missions went awry, and when countless people died at the hands of the enemy. And, at times, they had argued fiercely when they butted heads over Quidditch rules or Order missions, or lately: Draco Malfoy.

How long ago that all seemed now. And Draco! Hermione scoffed, breaking the muted blanket that seemed to have descended over the Castle. Draco had orchestrated everything. And Minerva knew that now, or would, soon enough and would blame herself for not seeing it, for not stopping it. Hermione vomited suddenly. Her entire being rebelled against everything that there was. She felt the tears running down her cheeks as her breath heaved against her lungs. She did not know what to do, other than to be there for Minerva. And she wanted that. More than anything.

She wanted to be Minerva's everything, but for now, just being was enough. Getting to know Minerva, deeper and deeper, had blossomed her childish crush into something _more_. She had thought that she loved Minerva, however one-sided, when she first realised her feelings. It was that fantastical sort of love that she grew up watching on the television and in her precious books. The fairytale love.

But she had been wrong all along. 

That love, created for stories, was fleeting. That love was only a fraction of what real love felt like. It was something that people invented to make things feel happy, to end their fantastical narrative on a high note.

Hermione had discovered that love, real love, was as much pain as it was happiness. Love required mutual understanding. A knowledge beyond what you could learn, simply by looking. She _knew_ Minerva now and as their friendship had grown, so had her love. When Minerva hurt, Hermione hurt. A deep, endless chasm of pain. And she only knew to do one thing to help. 

She would hold Minerva together until she could hold herself together again. 

She wiped her mouth and drew a bottle of water from her beaded bag. Gradually, thanks to Minerva's teaching and advice, there was more and more in it and the extension charm had been altered, three times already, to accommodate the items she might one day need. She rinsed out her mouth and freshened her breath to take away the taste.

And then she stood. 

She wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened her jumper and she strode purposefully to Minerva's door where she stood for a moment, looking up at Minerva's entry-way portrait - a man named Michael. A proud Scott.

"I request entry," she said quietly. "The password is Thistledown."

"I cannae do that, lass," the portrait said gravely. "She changed it, not thirty minutes ago."

"You need to let me in."

"I cannot," he shrugged.

"My name is Hermione Granger," she said fiercely. "I am Minerva's friend. I _need_ to be in there with her."

"Aye, I know," he apologised. "But unless you have the password, I cannae bid you enter, Hermione. You ken that."

"But how am I supposed to know what it is?"

"It'd no' be above yeh ken, lass. Have a wee think about it," he said quietly. "She didnae make it hard."

She paused. He looked at her for a long time and nodded as she stared at him. Her insides seemed to crumble to dust as she whispered a name into the silence and he closed his eyes. The portrait swung open and she started up the stairs, preparing for whatever was beyond the door.

But no one could have prepared for what she found.

It was a catastrophe. 

Books were strewn across the ground and pages still floated through the air like a tornado had only just swept through. Minerva's favourite tea set was in pieces on the floor by the sofa and her own favourite armchair, where Hermione had sat and had tea so many times, was smouldering. She doused the smoking remnants and was about to start repairing and tidying up when an almighty crash came from where Hermione knew Minerva's bedroom was. She didn't wait, she didn't hesitate nor stand on ceremony. She raced into the room just as Minerva whipped around, her wand outstretched and the most terrifying expression on her face.

The hangings on the bed were aflame, the dresser; not unlike the one in Minerva's home, was in splinters all around the place. Hermione, though, did not have time to look at anything else. A bolt of magic, spinning with red and gold intertwined, came hurtling at her and she sidestepped it quickly like Minerva had taught her and put up a shield to stop it from grazing her as it exploded. 

Minerva's wand clattered to the floor and the anger was replaced with desolation.

"Herm-" she squeaked. She stepped forward and stopped as she seemed to realise what she'd done. Hermione knew she would have to move quickly before their friendship was destroyed by Minerva's mourning.

"Stop," Hermione said, taking two steps forward into Minerva's space. "It's okay. You didn't mean it."

"I -"

"Shh," Hermione whispered, reaching out gently to touch Minerva's elbow. "It's okay. No harm done. I should have announced myself."

"He -"

"I know," Hermione nodded, her heart breaking as two fat tears gathered at Minerva's eyes and rolled down her face. 

"He is -"

Hermione gathered Minerva up in her arms as she broke. Endless waves of pain and anguish escaped from Minerva's throat and it tore out her soul even as she sought to patch the hole in with her own. She didn't speak, she didn't know what she might say, so instead, she held on. She put out the fire on the awning and moved them both onto the bed. She removed the top-cover completely with her wand. It took with it, most of the detritus and the reminders of what lay around them. Ignoring what she could, Hermione knelt on the bed and pulled Minerva with her.

"I'm here," she said finally, as she moved away so she could ease further onto the mattress. Minerva grabbed her tightly enough that Hermione would likely have bruises but she didn't make a noise. Instead, she turned her hand over and held Minerva right back. She sat and patted the pillow beside her and guided Minerva down onto the bed. "I'm here," she said again as Minerva pulled her close and sobbed against her shoulder. 

Time passed outside of their small island of peace. She had no idea how long it had been and cared even less. She imagined how she would feel if Harry, or Ginny, had been the one to lose their life and Hermione cried herself at the thought of Minerva hurting that much. And she cried for the idea of their shining beacon of all that was good being snuffed out so cruelly. And she cried for the pain of Minerva's heart and the loss of such a man. A lifetime of love, and respect, and care, gone in an instant.

She cried for the loss of so much hope.

As so often happens, eventually her tears dried and her breathing returned to something close to normal. What surprised her was that, at the same time, Minerva's did too. When they had been in a similar situation before, Minerva's embarrassment had got the better of her and she'd escaped quickly from Hermione's arms. This time was different. Minerva didn't let go and Hermione didn't move. She held on, just as tightly as she had and they stayed there for endless seconds, minutes, hours even. She breathed in Minerva's scent and gently pulled the pins from her hair, letting it free. 

As they had discussed once, over tea, such heavy use of magic had made her curly hair wind tighter and Hermione smiled sadly as it almost stood on end. She smoothed it out, running her fingers through it and felt the tension in Minerva's body let go a little. She kept doing it, alternating dragging her fingers through Minerva's hair with raking her nails across her scalp. 

Before long, Minerva sighed and shifted. Hermione stopped, but Minerva shook her head and Hermione continued. Time slipped by them still and eventually, Hermione's arm tired and she threaded her fingers in Minerva's hair and came to rest.

"I need to get up," Minerva said eventually, her voice gruff.

"When you're ready."

"I don't know how to do this. I don't want to lead."

"But you are made for it," Hermione soothed. "You must."

Minerva sighed.

"Sometimes I just want to curl up in the window at home and pretend the world does not exist."

Hermione knew that feeling very well. As their lives had darkened over the last few months, she had started dreaming of that moment more and more. When she had sat beside Minerva, shoulder to shoulder, and sipped tea while they watched the snow float through the air, and then later when they had curled around each other in the quiet.

"I will join you there if you are amenable," she said finally. "After we help Harry kill this asshole."

Minerva snorted, squeezing her hand between their bodies and wiping her eyes.

"Thank you, Hermione," she whispered as she started to pull away.

"You're welcome," Hermione smiled and let her.

Minerva sat up and Hermione followed, watching as Minerva blinked and looked around. Her eyes went wide at the destruction and she gasped, seeing the burn mark on the wall where Hermione had been. Hermione followed her gaze and ran her thumb over Minerva's hand.

"Please don't worry. You weren't thinking and I snuck up on you. You could never hurt me. I know that."

"I don't know what I'm doing," Minerva whispered, looking at their joined hands. She looked up. "I -"

Hermione simultaneously saw what was about to happen and knew that it could not.

"Min?" Hermione whispered, placing her fingers over Minerva's lip. "You're going to stand up, do your hair and go out there and organise them. You're going to protect us the best you know how to. And you're going to lead us like I know you can. We," she frowned. "We won't be able to meet up, before the end, and I know we'll have to pretend like we are not -" Her voice broke. "Friends, for both our sakes. And whatever happens, Minerva, I know you'll take care of them, but I need you to take care of _you_ first." Minerva looked at her with such sadness in her eyes that Hermione nearly couldn't finish what she was saying. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "Promise me," she whispered. "Promise me, that no matter what happens, you'll come out of this?"

"I promise," Minerva breathed and Hermione nodded her acceptance. The air was so heavy with unspoken words and sadness and disappointment that Hermione didn't think she could move. Minerva seemed to sense that. "Hermione," she whispered. When she said nothing else, Hermione looked up and watched as Minerva smiled like she had not done in many many months. "I promise."

Hermione smiled back and nodded.

"I do too," she whispered. "And," she shrugged, indicating the room around them. "I'll take care of this if you like. You need to be out there and I can do this for you. Then, I guess we're going home?"

"Yes," Minerva nodded. "I will send them home. After a ceremony or," she shrugged. "Whatever the rest of the Professors and I decide to do instead." 

"I'll be at the Weasley's. Will you see Mum and Dad?" she asked. "We'll definitely be being watched now, I don't want to draw attention to them. Bill and Fleur are getting married in July and they'll have to get Harry before he ages out?"

"They will no doubt have instructions," she shrugged. Hermione had only recently discussed blood wards with Minerva and they had come to that conclusion themselves. "And yes, I will talk to your parents. I did receive an invite from Bill," she chuckled. "I had not intended to accept, unless -"

"I'll be there."

"Then so will I."

"Might skip the Quidditch this time though," Hermione chuckled.

Minerva snorted and pulled Hermione's hand close and kissed the back of it. She used the leverage to pull Hermione even closer and slid her hand around Hermione's neck. Before she knew what had happened, Minerva's lips pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering like she couldn't pull away.

"Please take care," Minerva whispered against her skin. "I will see you at the wedding."

"I'll put your rooms back together."

Minerva nodded but didn't move until Hermione knew she must.

"Go," Hermione nodded. "It's time."

Minerva stood, her eyes clear and a small curl of her lips as she stared endlessly into Hermione's eyes. Her hand lifted almost in goodbye and her hair did itself up, into her usual tall bun. She stayed a beat longer and though her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, she fled the room, leaving Hermione on Minerva's bed with a huge hole in her heart.

Albus Dumbledore dead, Minerva gone. Harry, Ron and herself alone in the world with no direction but with everything to do. She could already see what would happen. She knew, just like she'd discussed with Harry, that everything was going to change for the worst and there was nothing they could do about it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Nothing to report except I did tell you to be prepared. And I am now repeating this statement. Be. Prepared. We're going through to the end of the war, mostly according to canon. You know what that means, so... just be prepared.**
> 
> **Thanks be to all that is Lib McGranger. She puts up with a lot, that's all I can say lol**
> 
> -0-

Ginny caught on the night before the wedding.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Hermione froze. She was in the middle of drying the dishes - finding the Muggle ritual an easy way to calm her mind, but now she was on tenterhooks, trying to figure out what to say.

"I thought so," Ginny sighed. She jumped up to sit on the counter and pulled the tea-towel out of Hermione's hands. "Harry snogged me stupid earlier, felt like a goodbye."

Hermione sighed and finally looked up.

"I can't apologise. We have to."

"I know," Ginny sighed. "And I know I can't go too."

"No," Hermione whispered. A thought crossed her mind. "Will you -"

"You know I will look out for her," Ginny sighed, pulling on a loose thread. "As much as I can."

"Thanks," Hermione smiled. "I'll look after them too," she chuckled.

"I know that," Ginny grinned. "Do you need anything?"

"I," she blushed. "Need help picking something to wear tomorrow."

"Hermione!"

"I know," she groaned. "I don't like anything I picked out months ago. It seems so childish but it's a big deal and -"

"She's coming, right?"

"Yeah," Hermione nodded, losing her breath. "She said she was."

"Then she will," Ginny smiled. "Aside from those two assholes they added to the staff, they've left the Professors mostly alone."

"Yeah, but they're dangerous. They're going to be so much worse than anything we've ever faced." She winced. " _ You've _ ever faced.

"We'll take care of them," Ginny said resolutely. 

Hermione nodded and put the mug down, waving her hand over the rest of the dishes and drying them instantly. 

"Let's go."

Ginny dragged her upstairs and they combed through her wardrobe until they found just the right thing. When Molly called up that they should go to bed, Hermione did so with a bright smile on her face and anticipation building slowly to a crescendo.

-0-

The Burrow was full of excitement from the moment she opened her eyes the next morning. The ceremony wasn't due to start for hours but she could already hear Molly panicking downstairs, so she sat on the bed and got lost in her thoughts, waiting until the boys came to find her.

"Hey," Harry muttered as he dropped onto her bed. "Are we ready?"

"Yeah," Hermione nodded. "If there's anything else you need, making sure I get it before we go downstairs. I want to make sure it's in my bag before it all starts."

"Hermione, do we have room for -"

Ron paused and winced as he held up the radio.

"Um," Hermione chuckled. "Sure?"

"Never know, do you," he muttered, dropping onto Ginny's bed across from them. Hermione turned the radio over in her hands and slid it into her beaded bag.

"So then we're ready?"

They nodded in unison and Hermione sighed.

"Ginny knows. And we know Molly does too. Do we have a signal? In case something happens?"

"Dunno," Harry groaned. "We'll go after the ceremony, obviously. Ron?"

"I dunno, do I," he scoffed, making Hermione chuckle. He'd come a long way since Christmas, but there was still a lot of room for improvement.

"Guess we'll play it by ear then? When it's time, I'll take you both, yeah? Somewhere only I know?"

They both nodded and then they heard Molly's laboured steps on the stairs.

"Guess this is it then?" Ron said, standing up. "See you later."

"Yep," Harry nodded. 

Ron left, getting caught by Molly on the way across the landing. Harry snorted as she got particularly intense.

"I," he looked at her. "Will she be here?"

"She said she would," Hermione shrugged, not beating around the bush.

"Good," he nodded. "Tell her I'm sorry?"

"I will try," Hermione blinked, trying not to cry. "I hadn't planned on telling her necessarily, but even if I do, she won't hear of it, you know that."

"Still," he shrugged.

Hermione nodded and Harry slipped out as Molly's voice faded back down the stairs. She let herself fall back onto the bed and let out a long, deep breath. Whatever happened today would be whatever it would be. But until then, she had thoughts of Minerva to keep her company.

-0-

The air was heavy with summer flowers and there were butterflies flitting between the rows of golden seats inside the big tent. Charlie stood as best man and clapped Bill on the shoulder as Fleur appeared at the entrance to the tent. Fleur looked beautiful and Bill so very handsome as they met under the cloud of golden balloons. She was glad they had waited until afterwards. Ron had not wanted to, saying it was a waste of time, but after Molly had found them out, there was no escaping it. Not that Hermione wanted to. 

But it had been an option they would have taken if they had needed to.

Now though, she sat with a disguised Harry, behind the front row, watching the ceremony with interest. Minerva had not arrived in time for the start of the ceremony and Hermione was worried she may not come at all. She did her best to push those fears away while the Official droned on about lighter and happier times. It turned out that Wizarding marriage ceremonies weren't all that different from Muggle ones but she liked the added flourishes that magic brought to it. Just as they were starting the oaths, Hermione felt something change. She sat up and saw Ginny smile at something in the distance before she looked down and nodded to Hermione. Hermione beamed and clutched at her own hands to stop herself from turning around. 

Minerva had arrived.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. She applauded when Harry did and stepped aside when the tent opened and the happy couple were presented as husband and wife. She had already turned away, trying to see over the sea of heads but she didn't have Minerva's height and was frustrated by the crush of people moving forward to congratulate the wedding party.

"Let's go over there," Ron muttered, nodding to a table where Luna Lovegood sat with her father.

They talked a little while the party started around them. Hermione listened with one ear as the talk turned serious, but her eyes never stopped scanning the room. Just as Mr Lovegood finished talking, she caught Ginny's grinning face through the crowd. Hermione leaned slightly and saw she was pointing to the other side of the tent. 

Following Ginny's finger, she found Minerva standing, talking to Charlie by the tent entrance. Hermione was frozen in place as she took the woman in. Having foregone the usual robes, Minerva wore a dress that showed everyone exactly what Hermione already knew: Minerva McGonagall was achingly beautiful. 

"Is that McGonagall? Holy shi -"

Harry slapped Ron's stomach to stop him from finishing his sentence and nudged Hermione with his shoulder. 

"Go on," he muttered. "I'll tell him."

She nodded absently, not having the presence of mind to think about who he was telling what to and walked robotically to the other side of the tent. A few people said hello to her and she nodded back, but her eyes were fixed on Minerva's back. The dress was the deepest purple she'd ever seen, almost inky with a shimmer to it that caught the light as she laughed easily with Charlie. The higher-than-usual neckline might not have made sense to anyone else, but Hermione knew why. Instead of making her look dowdy though, it elongated Minerva's lithe form to something akin to a goddess. 

She realised that quite by accident they had dressed to compliment each other. The lilac dress robes she'd borrowed from Ginny would look lovely next to such a deep colour and she chuckled even as she neared. She saw the exact moment that Minerva realised she was there. It seemed as though the sense of one another that had developed over the last year, had remained, though they hadn't seen or spoken to each other for months. Hermione heard Charlie ask if Minerva was alright. It seemed Minerva had stopped speaking. She turned slowly and her eyes fell on Hermione. The fire that danced in her eyes was echoed beneath Hermione's skin as she smiled.

"Hi Min," she said, swallowing at how silly that sounded.

"Hello, Hermione."

She desperately wanted to throw herself into Minerva's arms and breathe her in, but they were being watched all around. Though the ceremony was for family and friends, it was getting harder to tell who was trustworthy, so Hermione shook herself and stepped up to join them. 

"So," she smiled at Charlie, her arm brushing Minerva's in greeting. "What are we talking about?"

They chatted amicably for a short while until Ginny retrieved Charlie for some photographs outside. As she led her big brother away, she turned and winked at them. Minerva snorted and drained her glass, looking up after she put it on one of the nearby tables.

"Permit me?" she asked, holding out her arm.

"Yes," Hermione sighed happily, wrapping her arm in the crook of Minerva's and letting her guide them out of the tent and into the field beyond. 

"Do you know where the edges of the wards are?" Minerva asked, glancing up and down the hedgerow. 

"At the fence of the garden," she pointed. "That side, to the back of the tent. I'm not sure about how wide they are though."

"No matter," Minera muttered. "We'll be safe enough here."

"Hi," Hermione sighed and buried her face in that long neck while she wrapped her arms around Minerva's shoulders.

"Oh," Minerva sighed into Hermione's hair as she reciprocated. "I've missed you," she chuckled. "Ever so much more than I thought I would. You look utterly beautiful."

Hermione blushed and leaned back to look down Minerva's body.

"It's lucky Fleur is part Veela," she chuckled. "Or you'd have shown her up."

Minerva rolled her eyes and laughed with Hermione for a while before they fell quiet. A distant fox broke the quiet of the dusk and made Hermione realise that night was falling quicker than she'd imagined.

"How are you?" Hermione asked, looking at her carefully.

"Tired," Minerva admitted. Hermione could already see that. "Angry," she shrugged. "I don't know what he wanted from me. Severus is," she groaned. "Don't make me talk about him."

"How dangerous are the other two?"

"Very," Minerva nodded. "But we will get through it, we always do."

Hermione nodded and smiled tightly. She didn't speak but as Minerva looked into her eyes, she knew she was rumbled. 

"Hermione -"

"Minerva," she said quickly. "We need to -"

"What? What are you -"

"Dumbledore left Harry a task to do."

"Hermione -"

"Only he can do it. And he can't do it alone, Min. You know he can't."

"You can't," Minerva hissed. Hermione swallowed at the ferocity in Minerva's eyes. "I forbid it."

"You  _ forbid  _ it?" Hermione almost screeched, her sensibilities roaring into life. "How  _ dare _ you. You sneak around for The Order for the last year or more, needlessly endangering your life, putting me on edge constantly, and you're forbidding me from doing what I must? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I," Minerva was shaking. "You are not going."

"You cannot stop me," Hermione spat.

"I will."

Her hand twitched and Hermione's eyes widened. She took a step backwards and Minerva suddenly looked terrified and followed her, yanking Hermione into her arms and clinging to her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her lips leaving a warm breath on the side of her neck. "I'm sorry. I -"

"Min," Hermione whispered, tears already gathering in her eyes. "We have to."

Long arms tightened around her and she did her best to hold Minerva just as tightly. 

"I can't lose you," Minerva muttered over and over. "Not now. Not now I -"

"I promised," Hermione muttered, finally managing to free her hand and bring it around Minerva's shoulders. She slid it up into Minerva's hair and closed her eyes and how right it felt. "I promised. And after he's dead, we'll see each other again. This way we can both be useful."

"Tell me what you're doing."

"I can't," Hermione sighed, pulling back to look into Minerva's eyes. "You know I can't."

"It is dangerous."

"All of life is dangerous," Hermione counselled gently. "We have," she winced. "A plan, of sorts. We are a long way behind. Molly," she groaned. "Has not helped. Which is her prerogative as Ron's mother but," she shrugged. "We'll be fine."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not telling you that either."

"Give me something," Minerva pleaded. "Please, love."

Hermione gasped. Tears formed in her eyes as they did in Minerva's. Hermione thought about it for a moment and nodded. She pulled out her beaded bag and summoned her box of ribbon, choosing a strand of deep green and a strand of Gryffindor red. She tucked the rest back into her bag and had Minerva hold them while she took out her wand. She had mastered the  _ Protean _ spell during her time in Dumbledore's Army so it did not take her long to create the link between them. After the final flourish, took the green one from Minerva and wrapped it around Minerva's left wrist, now permanently empty in reverence for the watch she had lost. It went three times around before Hermione tied it tightly and secured it with a sticking charm.

"It's something," she whispered, taking the other one and wrapping it around her own wrist. Minerva stopped her hands and tied it herself, securing it with a charm.

Hermione's breath caught as Minerva kept hold of her hand and brought it to her lips. She watched, helplessly, as Minerva pressed her lips to the ribbon and lingered there.

"Minerva," she whispered.

"Don't you dare die," Minerva hissed. "Don't you dare."

Hermione opened her mouth to answer when Kingley's deep booming voice echoed across the fields.

**_"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_ **

Hermione's eyes bugged and Minerva swore, tightening her hold on Hermione's hand.

"Don't even think about it," Hermione growled, seeing Minerva's hand reaching for her wand. "Min," she said, stopping Minerva from turning on the spot and disappearing with her alongside her. "Minerva?" Minerva looked at Hermione for a moment with only despair in her eyes. "Let go," she said gently, cupping Minerva's cheek. "I'll see you at the end."

Minerva's hand tightened, but then she stepped back, her hair coming out of its intricate design all of its own and crackling with the overwhelming magic in the air. They could hear the people in the tent rushing about and Apparating away, but nothing felt urgent.

"I," Minerva choked. "I -"

"I know," Hermione smiled, tears gathering. "Me too."

Minerva's eyes widened and for a moment it looked like she would say something else when Harry's voice screamed out over the field.

"HERMIONE!"

"Go," Minerva nodded. "Go. I'll find you. After."

Hermione started to turn and closed her eyes against the tears as she heard the pop of Minerva disappearing. She grabbed the boys and nodded to Ginny before disappearing with a pop themselves.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: I hear you all enjoyed the last chapter... Glad to hear :P I did warn you though, so... there's that.**   
>  **As always, massive thanks to Lib for all she does.**
> 
> -0-

Hermione watched her breath on the air as she sat against a nearby tree. As had happened every time she had a little time to herself, her thoughts were on Minerva and she ran her thumb over the ribbon that remained doggedly attached to her wrist. She tried to smile as she felt the heat in reply, but she couldn't. The tears that had been threatening to fall since they'd left Godric's Hollow in such a rush, started falling and just kept falling. 

Ron had left them, and she was still so angry with him, and Harry wore the locket often enough that she had started to despise him for his dark moods. Not that hers were better. She was so angry. They had done everything the hard way and everything had seemed to have gone wrong. She was so much better than this and she hated what had happened at Godric's Hollow. And she hated Ron for being so cowardly. And she hated herself for wanting to just pack it all in and go home. 

She got up in a huff and paced endlessly. 

They had been at this for nearly six months, and they were no better off than they were when they started. In fact, despite now having a Horcrux in their possession, it was possible that they were worse off than when they began, having lost Harry's wand and said goodbye to Ron in the process.

Her wrist warmed again and she stopped, taking a deep breath of cold air and calming down. The ribbon had turned out to be Hermione's saving grace. Whenever she was scared or lonely or angry, Minerva seemed to know. So far, she'd only felt the reciprocating warmth when she needed it but after hearing about the world on Ron's radio not too long ago, she feared for Minerva's future. There were whispers of what was happening at Hogwarts and she could not bring herself to even imagine what they were going through.

It broke her heart.

She took another breath and ran her thumb over the ribbon once more, telling Minerva that she was okay. She wished she had thought to make something more communicative, but it was enough for now. It was enough to know that Minerva was with her. She looked up at the sky and noticed a few constellations that she recognised and remembered something.

She was not far from where Minerva had lost her watch, nearly a year ago. Her breathing quickened as she glanced at the tent and then out into the darkened forest. 

It was risky to even attempt and after a year, it was not likely that something as trivial as a watch would even be there still. They had no idea who else was in the forest and they knew that there were roving parties of Snatchers combing the countryside, but this was worth it, wasn't it? It meant a lot to Minerva, which meant that it mattered a lot to Hermione too. She nodded to herself and put away her wand, trialling her wandless magic as she had been doing since Minerva taught her. If anything she almost preferred not to use a wand for some things these days. Minerva had been right in those first few weeks: Magic was breathing. And, it was just another way to be close to the woman she loved so deeply.

Making up her mind, she went back to the tent and peered inside. The locket was hanging on the bedpost and Harry was asleep in the chair by the fire. She was in two minds whether to wake him but she decided against it. She didn't necessarily want him to wake up to her gone, but he'd also worn the locket for two days and he was so exhausted. So she left him sleeping. She scrawled a quick note on a piece of spare parchment and left it beside him with her wand. Seeing as they were sharing now, it was only fair that he keep it, just in case. She stood, panicking a little at what she planned on doing until she decided that she didn't care. Harry could forgive her this one thing. 

Just this once, she would do something that _she_ wanted to do.

Not for the Order, not for the good of the people. Not for Harry. For herself. She pulled on her coat and scarf and used the wand to alter her features just enough so it wasn't immediately obvious who she was. She took one more look at her best friend, and then she strode out of the tent, across the boundary protections and out into the forest. 

As she stepped over the boundaries that she made herself, she knew she might have a hard time finding her way back. Hermione Granger, however, was nothing if not resourceful. She pulled a ribbon from her bag and tied one to a branch, just outside the protective circle. She just hoped that she would be able to find it again after she returned.

Assuming she did return.

She knew that it was risky, of course she did. At best, she would have to come back to this exact spot and wait for Harry to fetch her back inside the protections. At worst, however -

She didn't want to think too much about that.

Seeing as she was already outside, she set off north in the hope of eventually stumbling upon Goodrich Castle. She knew from memory that she was close to where her parents had taken her camping - a smaller campground just north of the Muggle motorway through the forest. Logically, that meant that the castle was further north still and she set off that way, working out roughly where she was going from the stars above them. The forest was anything but silent and as the distance between Harry and herself grew, it did not take her long to realise that she was an idiot for making such a rash decision. Hearing a noise off to her left, she dropped to the floor and rolled beneath a fallen tree, watching through the dark. With no wand and a rapidly diminishing sense of bravado, she was a sitting duck. She'd never been so relieved to see a badger waddle across the clearing, just beyond where she was hiding. As she moved to leave her spot, she heard another noise and froze.

No badger was big enough to make that sort of noise.

She tucked herself back under the log as quietly as she could as two sets of boots crashed into the loam, not two inches from where she'd just been about to appear. Her heart was in her mouth and she clamped her lips shut in case they heard her breathing. She tried to stay calm, but when one of them turned around, she just managed to bite off a squeak as the moonlight shone off something wet on the boot. It looked very much like blood and she was not interested in taking a closer look. She lay as still as possible, berating herself for her stupidity while they hung out in the clearing. She couldn't hear too much of what they were saying over the heartbeat thumping in her ears, but she let out a soft breath when a third pair of boots joined them. There was a flash of light and she stopped breathing completely until she realised they were just lighting a cigarette before they walked off in the opposite direction. She nearly wet herself in relief.

Once she was sure they were gone, she climbed out of the hollow tree and crouched down behind it. She wondered, perhaps, if it was the locket's influence that had pushed her away from Harry so insistently. But now she was here, she might as well get on with it. She would go, she would look and whether she found it or not, she would return to where she thought she needed to and that would be it. 

Honestly, it would have been so much easier to do this with a wand in hand, but she could not have left Harry unprotected. It was one thing to make a horrendously selfish decision, it was quite another to be _that_ selfish. She shook her head and cleared her thoughts. She took another look at the stars but the clearing was not very big and beyond it, it looked very dark. She needed a new plan.

Glancing around again, she leant against the tree and considered her options. She could continue walking in the direction she was going. Potentially, she could stumble upon it, but there was a much greater potential of her missing it completely. After Minerva had told her about it, Hermione had looked up Goodrich castle on a map and in a few books that she found in the library. If she had her wand, she could simply apparate there, take a quick look for the watch, and be back with Harry in no time at all. The problem was, of course, that nobody could Apparate without a wand.

Nobody.

Not a single person.

Ever.

Except, Hermione reasoned, nobody had ever tried it, as far as she knew. After their six months of exile afforded her time to practise, Hermione was well aware that she had the proclivity for the evolved power that Minerva had alluded to. She no longer had to think of the spell to levitate something or to summon something. She didn't really even need to move her hand. She only needed to think about something and it would often shoot into her hand without hesitation. So if summoning could be done without a spell or a wand, and levitation could be done without a spell or a wand -

Maybe.

Just maybe.

She stood cautiously and stepped into the clearing. Knowing she would have to be the calmest she'd ever been, she relaxed her shoulders and rolled her neck. She filtered out all of her thoughts, except for where she was going. She wanted to arrive just outside of the field that Goodrich Castle sat in. From the picture she'd studied, there was a line of trees that bordered the north and west walls. If she arrived there, she could take note of any hostiles from a place of cover and act accordingly. Beyond that, she needed to find somewhere where the scars of battle remained and if she could not, she would immediately return. 

But, if there was a chance, she would take it.

She took one more deep breath and recalled one of her favourite memories. Minerva's silky voice in her ear as she levitated all the books in her library played on repeat. She felt the warmth of her on her back and the squeeze of strong hands on her shoulders. Smiling, Hermione then let go of that memory in favour of visualising the trees outside the castle. She held onto it, concentrating only on that. 

On nothing else.

Hermione Granger turned on the spot and disappeared from the clearing.

She gasped as she landed on her backside in a small but dense patch of trees behind a big stone wall. She lay there breathing hard before she patted herself down for any splinching injuries. She had to clamp her mouth shut to stop herself from cheering when she found herself not only whole but exactly where she wanted to be. Pumping her fist, she crouched down behind one of the trees and looked around.

" _Homenum Revelio._ "

The spell returned no signals and after a few moments, Hermione tried again, not completely trusting the results without a wand. Finding the area clear, she crept along the wall and around the corner. 

She followed the big castle walls until they ran out into an open field and she stood at the edge of the trees, searching for the place she needed. It would have been a small space; a defensible position that Minerva could have used to spy on whatever they had been doing here at the time. It was near a stone wall that was now partially collapsed. 

Only there were no stone walls in the field, save for the castle. She searched again, knowing that the moonlight could only offer her so much before she decided that maybe Minerva had been in the castle at the time. The castle itself had seen better days and she crept forward, using the dead grass and the windswept walls to hide her approach. The entrance seemed to be above her, at the end of a long, curving footpath that was walled on both sides. She couldn't see a thing except what was in front of her, but she crept forward again and cast another revealing spell. 

There was nobody there. 

She couldn't for the life of her work out why Minerva had been here in the first place but reasoned that it was possible that a year ago Voldemort and his followers would have needed a more defensible position while they gathered their forces. Though it was popular with campers in the summer, she didn't think many Muggles would have ventured here in the winter or early spring, which was about when Minerva had been hurt. She abandoned caution and sprinted to the wall and used a gap in the wall where it seemed to have collapsed to heave herself up onto the path. From here she could see the entrance to the castle and most of the road and it was only when she was about to race up to the entrance that she realised where she was.

"Oh," she whispered to herself, looking down at her feet. "Of course!" 

_This_ would have been a great place to hide while she watched the comings and going of a castle. Even more so as a cat. She glanced around, seeing the cleaner sides of some of the bricks scattered about. The different textures to the ones that had already been overgrown by moss and grasses. She clambered back down to where most of the debris seemed to have gathered. She used the moonlight as best she could, moving brickwork by hand to try and see around it. In the end, she gave up and took another careful glance around her, she pulled up her sleeves and held out her hands. Concentrating carefully, she lit her _Bluebell flames_ and transferred them to her left hand. The light danced ominously off the stones but it sped up the search immensely as she dug under the remains in hope but with a growing sense of despair.

She placed the little flame on a stone close by and used both hands to search, trying to be as quick as possible. If there were Snatchers around, it would not take long for them to notice the light in such an open expanse of ground. Just as she was about to give up, something glinted out of the corner of her eye. She turned and her breath caught. She stared at it; a tiny sparkle, glittering in the low lights. Her heart thumped happily as the silver casing danced in the light of the flames. Hermione beamed. As she scrambled to her knees to extricate it, there was a shout across the field. 

"OI!"

Hermione dosed the flames and shifted the stone as quickly as she could. Her fingers were cold and numb but she didn't care as she scrambled to shift the rocks. She had just managed to move enough dirt to pull it gently out of the frozen ground when the first shot whistled over her head. It exploded in a burst of light on the brickwork, illuminating her position, but also helping her to finally pull the watch free.

"STOP!"

She ducked the second shot and flung her arms in the direction of the spells and cast her own in return. She had no idea what she was doing, and it was not a great idea to announce her presence like that, but it would slow them down. 

And it did.

The field exploded into flame. The grass was dead and dry and it burnt happily. In the flames, she could see the silhouettes of three dark figures trying to avoid getting caught in the flames and push forward to her position. She used the remaining seconds of her luck to check that she had actually found Minerva's watch and grinned as she realised it was exactly what she was looking for. She pulled herself up onto the walkway and ran into the castle, using the walls for cover while she found somewhere quiet to apparate away. 

She tucked herself into a corner and clutched the watch to her chest. She thought of the ribbon she'd tied to the tree outside of their tent and turned. She felt herself being squeezed from all sides and felt her feet lift from the ground. 

And then she felt the ground rushing up to meet her as she was slammed back to earth again. 

She swore and groaned as her body protested the sudden return to Earth. In the time she'd spent scrambling for the watch, they had cast an Anti-Apparition net. Shaking her head at her stupidity, she tried to work out how to escape without getting caught, without losing the watch and without leading them back to Harry. She got back to her feet and peered around the doorway to see where the enemy had gone. She glanced around for something to use and noticed that the stonework was not looking so good. Using her fingers, she scraped at the mortar and grinned maniacally as it fell to dust under her nails. Just as the three were set to round the corner, she ran out of her hiding place across the courtyard and screamed at the top of her voice.

_"BOMBARDA MAXIMA."_

Hermione Granger was not a stupid person, as a rule. She recognised that, current situation aside, she was actually - normally - a rather sensible person. What she was not, however, was an architect or a structural engineer. In her haste to cast her spell and cut across the castle to where the walls were a little lower that she might clamber over them and escape the net, she had managed to take out most of the front of the castle. The problem with that was that the front of the castle seemed to be holding up most of the interior walls. It did not take her long to realise that she needed to be running _away_ before she became part of the castle's destruction. An explosion from outside the walls sent a lot of the debris back onto her. She dodged a giant block of stone and dived through an opening into another room at the back of the castle just as it started raining stones and dust and debris.

She searched wildly for another exit and decided just to hope for the best. She backed into a corner, as tightly as she could, and tried not to worry about the castle falling on top of her. She tucked the watch into her beaded bag for safe-keeping and turned on the spot without hesitation.

This time, it worked and she slammed back to earth. She allowed herself a few seconds to catch her breath before she got up and with a quiet cry of triumph, found the tree that she'd tied her ribbon onto. She undid it and tucked it back in her bag while she tried to remember whether she'd tied it to a southern branch or an eastern branch. Just as she was about to lose her mind with worry, a hand appeared out of thin air and yanked her off her feet.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Harry nearly screamed. "What the hell are you doing!"

"Harry," she breathed.

The adrenaline that had been coursing through her, evaporated as she lay on the frigid ground and she felt one or two tears fall from the corners of her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, kneeling by her side. "What happened?"

"Don't ask," she pleaded. "Just," she groaned. "Please don't ask. I," she looked up at him. "I'm so sorry. I made a bad decision. I'm fine," she reassured him as he started looking her over. She was filthy, covered in rock dust and dirt, but she was fine. "I just," she groaned, letting her head bag onto the ground with a thud. "Made the wrong decision for the right reasons. And got really, _really_ lucky."

They stared at each other for a long time, before Harry sighed.

"Come on," he said finally, offering her his hand. He was a better friend than she deserved, sometimes. "You need a shower. It's my turn to take watch and then you need to sleep. Leave the locket. We're going to take a break for a while."

She nodded and let him help her up. They had managed to rig a shower up and she made use of it now, using her wand to warm the water. She luxuriated under it for as long as was feasible before wrapping up in warm and comfortable pyjamas. She pulled her blankets onto the sofa in front of the fire. Harry was ensconced in the tree hollow she'd been perched in earlier, keeping watch for enemies, so she took out the watch and looked at it properly. It was filthy and scratched, but incredibly, it was intact and still worked. Letting caution to the wind she kissed the ribbon wrapped around her wrist and felt a stab of heat in return. She laughed, then stopped at the almost foreign sound, before she laughed again. 

Hysterical giggles fell from her as she clutched the small timepiece to her chest and as she fell victim to the warmth and the happiness that overtook her, she imagined Minerva's face when she returned it to its rightful place. 

Right there beside her ribbon. 

Just above their intertwined hands.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hello all, happy day. See the warnings ;)**   
>  **Thank you to Lib McGranger, you genuinely wouldn't have this fic without her.**   
> 
> 
> -0-
> 
>   
> _**Trigger Warning** for scenes of torture, terror, physical harm, emotional fallout: The Mudblood Bit._
> 
> -0-

To say things had not gone well was an understatement of epic proportions. Things had gone so badly, in fact, that Hermione, only minutes earlier, had been forced to cast a stinging spell directly into Harry's face. Thankfully, it had made him unrecognisable for the time being.

The reasons for such a thing became immediately more apparent.

"Need to get this lot up to the Big 'ouse," one of the Snatchers grunted as they were pushed into a make-shift camp. They'd given false names but Ron's hair was immediately recognisable and he'd already been assaulted for lying about who he was. It seemed like they were doomed as she, Harry and Ron were separated from the others that had been rounded up as well.

"Why?" A voice growled from inside a dark tent.

"That's a Weasley," he explained, nodding to Ron. "And this one's the Mudblood that's usually wiv Potter. And -"

Hermione watched as the Snatcher that had caught them showed the Sword of Gryffindor to the emerging figure. She bit back a gasp as the figure came into view. He was an extraordinarily big man, with scars all over him. One, in particular, stood out more than the others; a bit mark on his neck. She knew enough to realise immediately who they were standing before.

Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf.

His meaty forehead crinkled in surprise as he inspected the sword and looked down at the three of them. He met Hermione's eyes and she shivered.

"Bring 'em."

_The Big House_ turned out to be a Manor. And as they rounded the corner of the road leading up to it, she heard Ron swear behind them.

"Malfoy," he whispered.

"Oi," the Snatcher hissed quietly, ducking out of Fenrir's line of sight. He slapped Ron's head for good measure. "Shut it."

They marched forward through the big gates. Hermione's heart was thumping so hard she could barely breathe. There was terror building in her bones.

And things only got worse.

Draco had, thankfully, not named Harry, though Hermione could see that he recognised them. It was such a small mercy and Hermione felt so much relief that she almost relaxed.

Almost.

"Where did you get this?" Bellatrix Lestrange suddenly screeched. She'd been mid-discussion with Fenrir Greyback about who would take credit for catching the Mudblood and the Weasley when she saw the Snatcher place the Sword of Gryffindor on the table.

Hermione quaked but did not speak. She wished Harry and Ron were still beside her, but they had been taken away not long after they'd arrived.

"WHERE?"

She opened her mouth to refute that it was nothing but a copy but the chance was taken away from her. Her entire body turned into pure pain. Every nerve-ending burned, ever hair follicle stung and her teeth clamped together so quickly she felt them crack. As the _Crutiatus_ continued, she couldn't even scream, though in her mind she did. She had never felt such pain. And then, just as abruptly, it stopped.

She gasped and fell face down on the cold flagstones of the Malfoy's dining room with a thud. She heard a series of groans and whimpers and she twitched painfully. As Bellatrix laughed maniacally, Hermione quickly realised that it was her own body making the noise.

"Now," Bellatrix said sweetly. "Where did you get THIS?" The tip of the sword slammed into the flagstone beside her face, showering her with sparks as it slid across the floor. "WHERE?" She tried to speak. She really tried but her body was still quaking like it was under the curse again. "I will not ask you again," the menacing voice hissed.

Hermione screamed in pain as strong fingers curled around her bicep, aggravating her skin and nerves before she was dragged to her feet. Her teeth were chattering so badly she was struggling to draw breath, let alone form words. She tried to remember what it was that she was being asked, but with Bellatrix prowling in front of her like a cut snake, she had no hope. That curved wand danced through the air, being switched between hands.

"It's a fake," Hermione managed to hiss between gritted teeth. "A copy."

Bellatrix couldn't seem to hear her and she continued pacing endlessly while she mumbled to herself.

"How did they get it," she hissed, spinning and marching back the other way, the sword dragging behind her. Hermione could slowly feel her limbs coming back to life, and with them, a heat from the ribbon around her wrist that was so intense that she nearly ripped it from her skin. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She had pins and needles in every part of her. She needed to get out of this room. She needed Harry and Ron and - she gasped, drawing Bellatrix's attention - Minerva.

"You've been in my vault, pretty thing?" She spoke so sweetly that Hermione recoiled. She shook her head violently.

"No," she managed to choke. "No. I, we," she cowered as Bellatrix swung the sword round and leaned it on her shoulder. "No! How? she questioned. "We took a copy from school. Ages ago. It's," she swallowed, closing her eyes, then deciding she'd rather see whatever her fate was coming head-on. "It's only a copy."

Bellatrix's wild eyes stared at her and she desperately tried to put up as many Occlumency blocks as she could in case the crazy bitch knew how to read minds.

"Draco!"

"Y-yes, Aunt Bella?"

"Bring our Master forth."

"I -" he glanced at Hermione with wide eyes. "Why do I have to do it? She's nobody. We don't even know whether she's -"

"This is my capture," Fenrir growled, stepping forward.

An explosion of the coat of arms above the fireplace made Draco and his mother squeal in fear as Bellatrix strode over and ripped Draco from his mother's grasp. 

"Do not test me, Draco," she seethed, pulling his wrist forward and pressing the tip of her wand into his Dark Mark.

Hermione felt such heat in her own wrist that she squirmed even as she tried not to draw attention to it. She curled around herself and cradled her wrist, screaming for Minerva in her head but clamping her teeth together as hard as possible to stop herself from making any noise at all.

_Hermione_.

She sobbed into her arms while Draco's mother and Fenrir Greyback argued with Bellatrix about bringing Voldemort to the Manor before time. In truth, imagining Minerva's voice might be the best thing she could hope for in the situation she found herself in. At least she could hear it before her death. It would bring her comfort through the pain.

_Hermione. Someone's coming. Hold on._

Hermione shuddered. Had she imagined Minerva's voice, she would not have chosen those words, but she was so shaky and discombobulated that she no longer knew what was real and what was not.

_Breathe. Someone is coming to rescue you._

That really sounded like -

_Love? You promised._

She blinked and took a deep breath. Minerva was in her head. She didn't know how or why, but she was there and that was something she could cling to. She eased out of her fetal position and shuffled toward the far end of the room.

"Where do you think you're going -"

Bellatrix laughed as she cursed Hermione again for a moment. This time she did scream. She screamed so loud her own ears rang with her voice. She bowed so tightly that her back cracked and her head slammed on the floor and then, again, it was just gone and she was left shaking.

"Now," she sneered. "Let's have a look at you."

Hermione squealed as her arm was captured between strong fingers. Thankfully, the ribbon was so filthy and well worn that it looked like nothing as Bellatrix dragged her back to where she'd started.

"While we wait for my glorious Master," she hissed happily. "I think we shall have a bit of sport."

Hermione glanced at Fenrir, who was smiling dangerously.

"Ooh would the Mudblood like that?" she cackled, before turning and pointing her wand at Fenrir as he stepped forward. "You're off-limits until we see The Master."

Bellatrix looked around at Draco and if anything her smile became even more terrifying.

"My sister was telling me only the other day how you hit poor Dwakey on the nose."

Hermione's eyes widened and she glanced at Draco, who just looked sick.

"Did you?"

"I -"

"Did you?"

"It wasn't -"

A flash of silver rendered Hermione mute, right until the moment Bellatrix knelt on her wrist and started drawing it across her skin.

"No!" Hermione screamed, her body violently trying to wriggle out of Bellatrix' grasp. "Please."

"I think we'll have one letter for every year you've tormented my nephew and a few for luck, hmm?"

Bellatrix cut into her forearm over and over, until Hermione's voice was hoarse from the endless screaming. 

"Get off her," came a gruff voice, and a hand gripping her hair. "She's mine."

In the terror of a new torturer, Hermione panicked and lashed out, feeling her magic just desperate to be released.

The hand in her hair was ripped away and a loud crash sounded as something heavy slammed into the table at the side of the room.

"Ooh, the Mudblood has some power," Bellatrix cackled. "I'm going to enjoy this."

Hermione blinked, horrified at the unleashed power and the prospect of making it worse and at that moment a number of things happened.

Harry and Ron suddenly appeared and screamed out her name as they bolted into the room. Bellatrix pulled her in close and the knife that was still dripping blood was pressed against her throat.

And then Dobby, darling little Dobby, stood defiantly before them. He spoke so eloquently as Bellatrix screeched incomprehensibly down her ear. Hermione clutched at the strong arm around her neck and her vision started to darken as it tightened. She fought tooth and nail as the craziness unfolded all around her.

She heard Dobby chastise Bellatrix, somewhere far away. There was a redirected spell and then Dobby snapped his fingers and Bellatrix was thrown backwards. The sudden force caused the knife to slide across Hermione's throat with a sting but she didn't have the energy to care. She dropped to the floor and couldn't respond when someone asked her whether she was okay. She wasn't sure what happened next, but she cried out in pain as she slammed into wet sand barely a moment later.

The force cleared her head somewhat and she glanced over to see Harry cradling Dobby in his arms. Unable to cope with anything else, Hermione passed thankfully into darkness and searched for an echo of Minerva's voice to help ease her passing.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Good evening. Isn't emotional and mental fallout fun? :\**
> 
> **Huge thanks to Lib McGranger who managed to get a look at this before I posted, even though she's super busy. My eternal thanks! (obviously, if you find anything wrong with it, it's down to me and my constant need to fiddle.)**
> 
> -0-

When she woke, there was a strange man packing a bag at the end of her bed. She immediately looked around for something to defend herself with and only remembered at the last moment that she was a witch.

"Don't move," she hissed.

It would have been a lot more menacing had the soreness in her throat not made the words catch. Her stomach revolted as she choked, coughed and tried to breathe at the same time.

"Easy," he said smoothly. "Breathe normally, calmly now."

He stepped to her side and procured a glass of water. His hand was gentle under her head as he helped her drink and she did so greedily until he took it away. She squeaked in disappointment.

"Go slow," he said, his lilting accent familiar in a way she couldn't place. "You dinnae wanna get sick now, do yeh."

She blinked, wincing at the pain in her eyeballs. His face came into contrast and she frowned. He had such strong cheekbones and an easy smile peeking out from a salt and pepper beard. But his -

"Eyes," she muttered, frowning in confusion. "Her eyes?"

"My name is William McGonagall," he said softly, smiling as she stared at him. "Minerva sent me."

Hermione burst into tears. Not small, quaint tears, but great, sobbing heaves that seemed to want to break her into a hundred pieces. She clung to him and he held her so carefully that it made her cry harder. She was so confused about everything else, but Minerva.  _ Minerva _ had sent him. Her brother. To care for them.

Hermione realised what that meant.

"Where is she?" she managed to croak. "Is she okay?"

"She must remain at Hogwarts," he explained softly, settling her back in the bed. "The enemy is always watching. When she realised that you needed help, she tried everything to get to you, but they -" A dark look crossed his face. "Well, there is no leaving the Castle at present, which meant Poppy couldn't come either."

"It's bad," Hermione mumbled, not needing the confirmation.

"It is," he nodded. "But it will pass. Good always prevails." Hermione made a noise of ill-content and he chuckled. "It does seem simple when I put it like that, but I have found that hope is a powerful tool." Hermione winced as a pain rolled through her and he waited it out. "Okay?" She nodded. "Minerva gave me strict instructions to inform you -" he frowned. "How did she word it? Oh," he chuckled. "She said that when you made your promise, she ‘rather thought it would include general well-being and harm?’ And that you're even?"

Hermione managed to curtail another sob, but she blinked the tears from her eyes. She chuckled and nodded.

"It did," she sobbed again. "And we are."

"I shall tell her," he whispered.

"Is she -"

"She's ok," he said honestly. "It is not easy but they're all ok, for now."

She nodded.

"Harry? Ron? Where are we?"

"The boys are fine. Nothing that a few good meals and sleep won't cure. You are at Shell Cottage, the residence of Mr and Mrs Weasley." Hermione frowned in confusion. "Mr Bill Weasley," he chuckled. "This is their home."

"Oh," she said, understanding. "I'm glad. What," she paused as a hazy selection of memories crossed her mind. "Happened?"

"I -" he hesitated but she did not let him. 

"Please Dr McGonagall."

He chuckled and sat down on the end of the bed.

"It's Will," he said kindly. "And I shall tell you a version of what happened that Mr Potter can explain fully, later, when you are rested." Hermione nodded and he brushed some lint from his trousers. "You were being held at Malfoy Manor, as far as I can tell. Your friends were not very forthcoming when I left them earlier. I don't think they understood who I was."

"Min isn't very forthcoming either, I doubt they even realise she might have family," Hermione rasped. She managed a tiny smile as he chuckled.

"I -" he sighed. "The House-Elf, Dobby?" Hermione nodded. "Did not make it. Mr Potter said that he was killed in the final moments of your escape."

Two tears rolled down Hermione's cheek as she thought of the bizarre but darling little House Elf.

"He saved us."

"Yes," he nodded. "Min couldn't think of anyone else that might still have enough access to get in?"

"He was the Malfoy's House Elf, before," she waved her hand tiredly. "It's a long story."

"Mr Potter is going to have a small ceremony for him. In a day or two when you can get up again. I have helped him care for Dobby in the meantime."

"But the boys are fine, though?" Hermione asked, needing the reassurance. "They're -"

"You are the one I am here to see."

"I -" she swallowed and breathed out shakily. "How bad is it?"

"You will heal," he nodded sadly. "I can do nothing for the scars," he muttered. "And for that, I am more sorry than you can know."

She nodded, her hand going to the wound on her wrist.

"Can I see it?" she asked. "What did she do?"

"You don't know?" His eyebrows went up in surprise, but his eyes were sad as he considered her. "I'm tempted to say no, although if I do, will you just unwrap it and look anyway?"

"Yes," she shrugged.

"Thought so," he huffed. He moved to her side and started unwrapping and it was in that moment that Hermione panicked 

"Wait!" she shrieked. "Where is it?"

William paused and looked up at her.

"Where is what?"

"The ribbon! The ribbon on my wrist?" She felt like her throat was closing as she pulled at the covers trying to find it. "Where is it?" she screamed. "Where -" 

"Hermione?" The voice sounded distant and she paused only for a moment before she started searching again. "Hermione, stop."

Her energy was waning and she heard him better this time. She had tears streaming down her face. Her one lifeline to Minerva, the one tentative connection that they had.

Gone.

"Calm down," he said gently. "Drink this."

He brought a potion bottle to her lips and she was all but forced to do as she was told, swallowing it down in two gulps and sighing as it immediately started taking effect.

"Now, are you calm?"

She sniffed pathetically but nodded.

"Minerva warned me about the ribbon. It is being washed, very carefully, by the lady of the house and will be returned to you as soon as it is clean. Minerva has been informed you are without it currently. Please don't worry." She sighed and then started crying quietly. Minerva, as usual, had thought of everything. 

"Sorry."

"It's quite alright," he whispered, moving to unwrap the rest of the bandage. "Before I do this, I will tell you that you have a cut on your neck as well. Thankfully, it missed the major artery you have there." Hermione's hand went to her neck and she felt along the bandage. "The wound is superficial, but might leave a faint scar." She nodded as his face went pale. "This, however, will certainly scar. It is not magical, only physical, and quite deep, so you would be able to cover it if you wished. But I -"

"Just show me," Hermione whispered, knowing it must be bad if Minerva's brother was hesitating so much.

He nodded and unwrapped the final loop.

"This makes you no less than what you are, Hermione Granger," he warned gently.

She frowned and watched as he carefully pulled off the dressing.

She gaped. That whine that seemed to make an appearance in her head whenever something happened was back. Her breath caught and she frowned as it became clearer and then, everything stopped and her brain caught up with her eyes.

"Is that it?" she said finally. 

William looked at her carefully.

"What do you mean?"

"Is that all she wrote?"

"I -" he frowned. "Yes?"

"And it's not cursed?"

"No?"

"Oh," Hermione laughed. "She's an idiot."

"She -"

She'd thrown William McGonagall for six, it seemed, as he stared at her. She took pity on him.

"I have heard this many times in my life," she explained. "But I was not brought up in the Wizarding World. I have found that Mudblood is an insult for people who find blood purity something to sneer about. I do not share those sentiments. I  _ am _ a mudblood. I have Muggle parents and come from a Muggle home. Outside of school, I lived a Muggle life. But I do not find it insulting. In fact, in times like these, I find that if a person is willing to call me that, they might very well be the next person I decide to curse."

William McGonagall sat back on the bed and stared for a long while before he chuckled. He stopped and frowned, shaking his head and then laughed again. A deep, jovial laugh that she could imagine him doing around a dinner table with Madam Pomfrey, their daughter and granddaughter, and Minerva. 

"Oh lass, you're just like her," he mused, scratching his beard. "Yes. An excellent take on it. But," he sobered. "Now that you're awake, I must go. I am due St Mungo's and they cannot be without me for long. Not least because someone will notice."

"Wait," Hermione said, thoroughly confused. "I thought," she shook her head. "I mean, aren't you going to -"

"I had strict instructions to force you to go back, yes," he chuckled, correctly understanding her stammering. "But Mr Potter read me the Riot Act as soon as I told him of her plan."

"We can't go back," she whispered sadly. "Even if we wanted to, we can't."

"I understand, and I'm sure she does too. Even though none of us likes it."

"Tell her that I'm sorry?"

"I will," he said quietly. "I've never seen her like this," he said, almost conversationally. "Poppy suggested I be the one to come and help. I see now, why that is." Hermione looked at him, bemused. He cracked a smile and patted her foot as he picked up his bag. "You  _ are _ a good match."

Hermione stared at him as she understood his meaning, but he smiled and crouched beside the bed.

"Do not leave here before seven days are up. You all need to rest but you, most of all, will need that time to heal. I've left as many potions as I could. Enough for you, this week, and a few spares for your stocks. Take the ones that you need to. Heal. Then you can continue on this quest Mr Potter seems to think is so important."

"It  _ is _ important," she muttered. "More important than anything."

"I'll tell her," he muttered. He reached forward and she was ashamed to say that she flinched as his big hand neared her face. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely.

"It's ok," she shivered, reaching out and taking his hand in hers instead. "Me too."

"Rest."

He squeezed her hand one more time and then left, closing the door quietly behind him.

As soon as it latched, Hermione burst into tears once more and fell asleep again, sobbing into her pillow.

-0-

And so, the hours passed.

She did as she was told. She kept to her bed, mostly, and tried her best to sleep when the mood took her. Ron helped her down the stairs when Harry came to her to tell her that he had dug Dobby a grave, overlooking the ocean outside.

It shocked her when Fleur had seen her and had raced around the dining table. It had shocked her more when Fleur pulled her into her arms, gently but carefully and muttered how thankful she was that she was alright. Hermione had tensed in anticipation, but she was thankful that she hadn't flinched as she'd done with Minerva's brother. She was surely getting a little better with each moment.

"I 'as something for 'ou," Fleur whispered. 

She waved Ron off and drew Hermione over to the sink, where her beautiful red ribbon was drying on the wrack. Had her eyes not been so sore she would have simply burst into tears for the umpteenth time, but she did not. She watched as Fleur kept talking, but Hermione couldn't hear a word she was saying. The whine in her ears was back and it only got louder as Fleur reached out and picked it up gently and wrapped it around Hermione's wrist.

As she tied it securely and cupped Hermione's cheek, a great rush of noise returned and she heard Fleur whisper before she let go.

"Entre deux cœurs qui s'aiment, nul besoin de paroles." Hermione frowned, her brain already working, albeit slowly, on translating. Fleur seemed to realise and squeezed her hand, gently. "Two 'earts in love, need no words," she said softly. "Like my Bill, and me."

Hermione let out a long breath and looked up at this woman who suddenly seemed so much older and wiser than her. She had discounted Fleur, before the wedding. She had been ditzy in the Triwizard Tournament and Ginny had taken great delight in decrying her unsuitability for Bill, but at this moment, Hermione learned all she needed to know about her.

"Merci beaucoup," she whispered.

"Je t'en prie, mon cher," Fleur smiled sadly. "Now go, ey? They are waiting."

Hermione rearranged the placement of the ribbon to make sure it was resting on her skin, just below the bandage and felt a great wave of something wash over her.

Minerva was happy.

She tried to call out, in her head, but it was silent and it filled her with sadness to realise that whatever had happened at Malfoy Manor had been an isolated incident. There would be time enough, after the war, to test all the theories she had. For now, though, Hermione kissed the ribbon quickly and joined Ron outside.

The knowledge that Minerva was alright, carried her through Dobby's sad little funeral. It did not mean she did not weep, though. They stood, Ron and her, on the dunes watching Harry place Dobby gently into the ground. Her tears mingled with the spray from the ocean but she couldn't bring herself to wipe them. Ron's arms wrapped around her and she leaned tiredly into him as she ran out of what little strength she had left.

"Let's go inside," Harry muttered over the wind as he joined them. "We'll tell you what we know. And then," he said grimly. "We need a new plan."

They talked all afternoon, only pausing when Bill came to Hermione's room to fetch them for dinner. It was a muted affair but Hermione felt much better once she'd had some food. They convened, afterwards, in Hermione's room so she could lay down. They spent some time talking to Luna and warned her about her father. She promised to be careful as she travelled back home and the boys waved her off as she left. 

Once they returned, however, Hermione felt the mood change. Griphook, the Gringotts goblin that had been rescued with them, had been convalescing in his own room. After she'd pieced together what she'd heard Bellatrix say about her vault, they determined that Griphook was vital to making a new plan. So, despite her exhaustion, Hermione got up and went with the boys to negotiate the release of information they needed.

It took far longer than she'd expected but by the time her head dropped to the pillow, she could just about make-believe that Malfoy Manor was nothing more than a bad dream. It helped that as she closed her eyes, she felt another wave of warmth wash over her. She fell asleep, dreaming of falling asleep elsewhere; in Minerva's arms.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: We all know how I am about plot (if you don't, you'll soon learn). If there are particulars that are out of order I apologise, but also...that's just how it goes. By now, you surely all know just to roll with it lol Also, I'm pretty bad at maligning Ron, but in this particular one, he's not a bad dude... So what are we gonna do? You got it, we gonna roll with it lol**
> 
> **Eternal thanks to the wonderful Lib McGranger. I am in your debt my dear.**
> 
> _**Trigger Warning** for the death of supporting characters etc. This is the Battle of Hogwarts. You know how it goes._
> 
> -0-

The Chamber of Secrets was just as dank as Ron warned her it would be. But there, next to the body of the Basilisk, Hermione took revenge on Voldemort for all the evil that he had done. Ron, bless his heart, had talked her through the evil visions that had swum around her. Of Minerva telling her she was worthless. Of her parents disowning her for a love she could not change. Of being jeered at. Of being ordinary.

Of being without Minerva.

Of being alone.

She had plunged that Basilisk fang into the cup with such force that she had cracked the stone tile beneath it and as she looked up gratefully at Ron, they'd laughed together.

"You're such a bad arse," he chuckled.

"At least I'm not just an arse," she said affectionately, after all they'd been through. 

"I reckon that they'll reckon we're meant to be together?"

"Probably," she shrugged. There were no secrets between them anymore. "Sorry?"

"I'm not," he chuckled. "You'd never be happy wi' me. Too small, somehow," he grinned in that way he did. "McGonagall'll be a better fit."

"Merlin, I hope so," Hermione whispered, looking at the destroyed cup. "And you'll find someone, Ron," she smiled. "And I'll be there when you marry her and have babies with her and the like."

"Can't wait," he chuckled, blushing up to his hairline. "They're gonna need godparents, right? You and McGonagall? Harry and Gin? Can't really go wrong, can I?"

She grinned and hugged him tightly.

"Let's go."

They ran back up to the castle, following Ron even as she kept an eye out for Minerva. The way her eyes roamed over every face in their vicinity made her dizzy and she almost tripped over Ron's feet more than once.

Harry caught up to them as they ran into the second floor and told them, as they followed him, that the Diadem was in the Room of Requirement. They raced up the stairs and had to do an abrupt turn as a number of boulders came rolling down the corridor. Before they crashed into the wall at the top of the stairs, she could hear the Order directing spells to fasten them in place and realised they were part of the defences. Having raced back down the stairs, they were nearly run over by a herd of stampeding desks.

"Charge!" came a cry from a voice she would know anywhere.

"Minerva -"

"Hermione!" Harry screamed, shaking her from her shock. "No time! Let's go!"

She dithered for barely a second when the choice was taken from her. Harry rounded the corner ahead of them and threw himself backwards as a suit of armour swung its sword where his head had been. 

"Go around." She pushed him in the opposite direction. 

"They do know we're on the same side, right?" Ron grumbled.

They made their way - safely - to the Room of Requirement. As she and Ron kept watch, Harry paced in front of the door, asking for the place where lost things are stored. 

As soon as he opened the door, she reaffirmed her need to spend the rest of her life researching this room. Her brain was abuzz with theories as to why anyone would make such a room and her fingers tingled with the need to catalogue the things in it. As they stepped inside, she realised the actual scale of the room and she stared wide-eyed at all the rows and rows of things that people had left.

"There must be hundreds of years worth of artefacts in here," she breathed.

"Yeah, but we only need one," Harry said resolutely. "Let's go."

They split up and raced down the aisles looking for the Diadem. Hermione just could not get over the amount of stuff that she couldn't wait to get her hands on. She stopped to look at a pile of books when Harry's shout went up.

"I found it!"

She ran towards his voice and slid around a particularly wobbly pile of junk. Just as she was scrambling for the other Basilisk fang, a shadow blocked the light from the door. They all turned to look and Hermione's eyes bugged as Draco appeared at the doorway with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Bloody hell," Ron growled. "That's all we need."

Harry stood and Hermione shook her head.

"I'll go," she muttered. She rubbed her arm absently and stepped into Draco's eye line. "Draco?" Hermione yelled cautiously. He frowned as their eyes met. "Let us pass. We," she glanced at the boys who shrugged helplessly. "We need to pass."

"I -"

He looked so lost that a small part of Hermione felt sorry for him.

"Draco," Ron said gently, stepping forward to join her. "Mate, it's time to -"

"I need to take you to him," Draco said, his voice wavering as he met Hermione's eyes again. "I _need_ to."

"Fuck that," Goyle grunted. " _Bombarda_!"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!" 

Draco screamed at his offsiders as Hermione pushed Ron out of the way as the stack of things closest to them exploded around them. They rolled off to one side, losing sight of Harry as he rolled the other way.

"We kill him," one of them muttered. "He'll make us his generals."

"No, you idiots, we need to capture him."

"You're weak. Your family is done," Crabbe spat, pushing past him into the room. "I'm going to kill him first."

The battle was fierce and despite being magically superior, they struggled to gain the upper hand. Hermione managed to hold her own, her wandless magic was now good enough that she didn't _need_ a wand, but as Goyle sent a particularly stubborn set of spells their way, she wished she had a little more control.

"Granger," Draco's voice stopped her as Ron cast a shield over the two of them. "Catch."

Hermione turned as saw Draco drawing her wand from his robes and throwing it her way.

" _Accio_ ," she screamed, holding out her hand.

Time seemed to stop as her wand spun in the air and suddenly shot straight down to her and into her hand. The feeling of having it back in her hands was something she would never be able to describe and she pushed Ron backwards as she stepped forward.

Using what she had practised with Minerva, she duelled them back until they were right at the edge of the room and nearly out of the door. Before she could push them out and slam the door behind them, she turned and grinned as Harry joined them. It was an error, and she knew it, as she heard Crabbe's gruff shout.

"Did he just -"

She turned and watched in horror as fire burst from Crabbe's wand.

"No!"

"What are you doing?"

"Oh shit," Ron grunted.

"RUN!"

She pushed Harry forward as Goyle and Draco caught up with them and they all ran as fast as they could, away from the fire that seemed intent on consuming everything in the room. It swirled through the stacks, wheezing gleefully as things exploded and melted and hissed their destruction into the room. They ran for what felt like hours but would have been mere seconds, as the fire roared around them. She realised they'd lost Draco and Goyle somewhere along the way.

"Harry," Ron grunted, stopping and pulling two brooms from a stack out of Hermione's eye line.

"Get on," Harry hissed, pulling Hermione to his side. "Now."

He kicked off and Hermione clutched onto his back, her eyes closed. Books and cleverness were fine, but as soon as her feet left the ground, she was done for. They banked left and right and Hermione protected her head as they flew past a searching lick of flame. Crabbe had clearly lost control of the _Fiendfyre_ long ago and she watched as he bumbled around a corner into a dead end.

"Oh."

Her stomach rolled as she watched him fall under an avalanche of items and gleeful fire.

"Harry!" 

Ron screamed out their names and she turned. He pointed down and she saw Draco and Goyle running into trouble.

"Leave 'em," Harry screamed, but Hermione smacked his shoulder and glared. He groaned and they wheeled around.

They got ahead of the _Fiendfyre_ and Goyle managed to heave himself onto Ron's broom as Draco took Harry's hand. She thanked every deity she knew that Harry was a brilliant flyer. They wheeled around and sped off for a window.

"Potter!" Draco squealed. As they left the ground again, Draco's fingers started sliding out of Harry's hand and everything seemed to stop. For a long moment, she watched as Harry struggled to keep hold of him and try to steer them out of the Room of Requirement. Draco's eyes found hers. "Please."

Her heart was beating far too fast for her to take a breath as she considered her options. She remembered every moment of her torture at the hands of Bellatrix and every second of it was watched by Draco and his mother. He'd saved Harry by refusing to identify him, but he'd also stood by while she was being so cruelly treated. 

"Hermione," Harry grunted. "Come on."

She shook herself and reached out, grabbing the back of Draco's robes and hauling him closer. She squeaked as they weaved between the searching fingers of the _Fiendfyre_. The heat was overwhelming and she struggled to keep hold of Harry and Draco as they urged the brooms on faster. They managed to squeak through the door at the last minute and tumbled into the corridor outside the Room of Requirement with a thump. All five of them collapsed, exhausted, on the floor. As she tried to catch her breath, there was a peculiar whining noise before the door to the Room of Requirement slammed shut and turned back into stone.

Harry got to his feet first and pointed his wand at Goyle. 

"Anything to add?"

Goyle shook his head and Harry left him, pausing to look at Draco for a moment. They stared at each other before Harry nodded once and stalked off.

"Oi! Wait for me," Ron said, leaving Draco and Goyle the broomsticks as he ran after Harry.

"I'm sorry," Draco croaked before Hermione could leave. "I -"

"I forgive you," she whispered, refusing to look at him. "I won't ever forget, but I forgive you." She took a deep breath and felt something release in her chest. After taking two steps, she turned back around. "Do better than them, Draco."

He dropped onto his backside as she met his eyes finally. They held each other's gaze for just a moment. Nodding to him, she finally ran off, after the boys, without another glance.

"The Diadem, Harry," she asked as she joined them.

"It was destroyed," he muttered. "I saw it. It's gone."

"So -"

"The snake," Harry grunted. "Just the snake."

They sprinted forward just as an explosion slammed into the wall and shook them all to their bones.

The final battle had begun.

-0-

Fred's death was something she had not anticipated. And it had torn her heart out and broken her spirit. As George carried him into the Great Hall, she felt Ron go very still and she heard Molly's scream. She stood, just outside the Weasley family's circle and stared. Ron dropped to his knees and shook Fred's shoulder before Percy pulled Ron away, holding him while he sobbed. She watched as Molly cried over her son's chest and watched George stare blankly.

For a sick moment, she expected Fred to sit up and ask what the matter was, but nobody could fake that pallor. 

Fred Weasley really was dead.

She blinked and looked away, remembering a muttered conversation she'd had with Minerva. She recalled saying that should the Weasleys ever have a family emergency, she'd step back, not because they'd wish her to but because that was the right thing to do. And she did so, right as Oliver Wood carried in the little body of Colin Creevy. She felt the tears start running down her face as he laid Colin down on the floor, kneeling beside his body. She knew why Oliver stayed by his side. Colin's family was Muggle, his brother only eleven. There would be nobody to mourn over him until it was ended.

Her chin wobbled as anger coursed through her. He shouldn't have been there at all. He should have been outside the Castle walls. Away from it all, with his brother and his mother and father. Safe. Protected. And yet he lay there, unmoving. Wrong, somehow, without his camera around his neck. 

When they bought Lupin and Tonks in, she felt all the strength go from her legs and she crashed to the floor. Ginny noticed, as she did every time Hermione needed something and pulled her into their family huddle. She wrapped her arms around Ginny and held on tight while they sat in shock at all that had happened. 

So many had died. 

So many people that she felt she had never given the proper attention to. They had always found Colin to be a little annoying, especially with his flashing camera. Harry, she knew, got particularly annoyed with him at times, but now he was gone. He might have changed the world, one photo at a time. And now, there was nothing.

And Lupin. Dear Lupin, who had loved Harry as best he could in the absence of Lily and James and Sirius. And Tonks, who had loved Lupin with everything she had, embracing the part of him that he hated in himself so much. And Fred. One half of a whole, somehow, while still being _Fred_. She slid her hand into Ron's as they sat quietly, listening to Molly sob on Fred's chest and Arthur's endless murmurs of disbelief.

She hadn't seen Minerva. She couldn't even entertain the possibility that anything might have happened to her. She clung to the promise they had made each other and at that moment, when her thoughts began running away from her, a soft heat warmed her wrist. She burst into tears, immediately feeling terrible as the others wrapped their arms around her. Fred was their brother and they were comforting her for her tears over Minerva and not him. She shook them off, thanking them with a sad smile and wiped her tears. Minerva was alive and she'd never felt so terrible for being so happy.

And then Voldemort's disembodied voice rang out, telling them they were out of time. 

Everywhere she looked there were grim faces squaring up. Some of her friends saw her and nodded to her and fell into step behind her. Neville, in particular, looked so tall and so responsible and she smiled as he offered her his hand.

"Got a job to do," he said grimly. "I've got me orders."

"Yeah," she nodded absently, looking around. "Have you seen -"

"He said somat about the snake," Neville confirmed. "But I've not seen him since."

She frowned but assumed Harry was off doing things to shore up the defences. Perhaps he was even with Minerva. It didn't matter. It was time to fight once more.

She and a number of fighters stepped into the Entrance Hall and made their way outside the big doors. It broke her heart to see how damaged they were. As she stepped over the rubble, she wondered absently if they would ever be whole again. It was a good question for a lot of them, she mused as she stood with Ron at the front of the Courtyard. She didn't question why they, in particular, were there, in front of everyone else. 

They still had a job to do, and they would do it. 

The snake must die.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hello all, I have in mind a few of you aren't getting emails but I guess you'll come looking when you don't see an email from me, knowing that I'm updating every single day at roughly the same time ;)**   
>  **A few of you have asked - there will be no Minerva POV in this fic. Hermione ran the show. The fic is finished and aside from the odd little edits, it's done. So however you imagine Min is coping out of shot, is how it is :)**
> 
> **Lib McGranger is the bomb dot com. It's just that simple. I do admit that I have meddled with this a little since she looked at it, so all mistakes (as always) are my own.**
> 
> -0-

She'd stopped trying to make sense of anything as she stood side-by-side with Ginny and Luna battling Bellatrix LeStrange. The amount of magic in the air was terrifying, but she fought with all she had, amazed that nothing Bellatrix tried got anywhere close to them. It was bizarre.

Harry's death and then, she assumed, resurrection was so confusing that her brain refused to piece it together. He was nowhere that she could see, and they had absolutely searched for him as they battled their way over to Hagrid. Luna was pushed into her and she turned, steadying their friend as Bellatrix saw an opening.

" _Crucio_."

Hermione saw it coming and everything seemed to stop around her. Her breath caught as she realised what was about to happen but then, all at once, she felt no fear. Bellatrix should have scared her more than any other in the world, but as she remembered what she'd carved into her arm, Hermione only felt scorn. Bellatrix thought she could break Hermione and yet she was stronger than ever.

She watched, almost absently, as the spell stopped - mid-flight - and crashed into a shield. As she saw who had cast it, she grabbed Ginny and pulled her away, ignoring the protests. They all fell back as Molly stepped in front of them and started duelling Bellatrix with such fierce determination that Hermione saw Molly in a brand new light. They watched for a moment before Ginny disappeared into another skirmish and Luna sat at her feet breathing heavily. Hermione realised that Bellatrix had caused far more hurt to those she loved than even Voldemort had. Neville's parents? Sirius? Herself. She wondered at a world where one person could be so destructive. someone shouted close to her and she looked up. Bellatrix suddenly looked very worried as she fought off Molly's spells and Hermione felt a spark of something wonderful.

She could have revelled in it. She _should_ have been vindictive. But Bellatrix wasn't even worth it in death. Instead, Hermione turned away and looked around the Great Hall. Everywhere she looked, there were allies duelling Death Eaters. And everywhere she looked, they all had the same look in their eyes. 

The Death Eaters were afraid.

She looked up to where the Professor's table usually sat at the head of the Hall and gaped as she realised what she was seeing.

"Min -"

Her feet felt like lead as she watched Minerva, Kingsley and Professor Slughorn duelling Voldemort like nothing she had ever seen. Molly fighting Bellatrix was one thing, but these were serious magic users. Their movements seemed as coordinated as a dance they had been practising all their lives and yet none of them uttered words that weren't spells. What was more, though, was that they seemed to be winning. That confused her, even as she rejoiced in it.

Voldemort seemed to realise the same thing and started fighting harder. She watched Minerva closely and was buoyed by how unworried she looked. Minerva was not phased. She worked alongside Kingsley like they'd been working together for years and perhaps they had. Kingsley had been a member of the Order since the beginning, according to Harry's photo. 

It was a sight to behold.

She realised she was standing in the middle of a battlefield and she helped Luna off to the side. They managed to tuck themselves out of the way while they caught their breath.

While Luna caught her breath - Hermione remained transfixed.

Minerva moved like the wind and Hermione soaked up every second of it. Not just as someone who had so much love for her, but as an example of the most powerful magic wielder that Hermione had ever seen. She took in every inch, cataloguing differences and similarities between the Minerva she'd relinquished so long ago, and this woman fighting for their freedom.

She wondered, absently, how many differences Minerva would find in her, once they were victorious. 

Molly screamed triumphantly, drawing Hermione's focus back to her own nemesis. Bellatrix, who had been cackling viscously only seconds earlier, stopped and stared. Her mouth moved but she had no voice. She blinked at Molly like a fish, staring dumbly as Molly stood straight, her face full of scorn. Hermione left Luna and joined Molly, just as the Weasley matriarch breathed out a final curse and Bellatrix Lestrange was suddenly no more. 

Hermione stared at Bellatrix's body. She seemed smaller, in death. Less, somehow. She wondered if she shouldn't feel more at the vanquishing of her enemy. Voldemort, though, was incensed. He yelled for Bellatrix and an explosion rocked the Hall when he realised she was dead. She gasped as Minerva, Kingsley and Slughorn were blasted from the stage and into the crowd that had done away with the majority of the remaining enemy.

She ran towards them, but Ron's arm around her middle stopped her.

"Enough," Harry said, appearing from the Invisibility Cloak not two feet from her. "Nobody help," he called, as a number of the Professors and his friends, including her and Ron, stepped forward. They faltered as he stepped onto the stage. "It has to be me," he smirked as he and Voldemort circled each other. "And it will be."

Hermione was enraptured by the information Harry was speaking into existence. All that he had learned from Snape's memories and all that he had pieced together since. Other things that she could not yet understand. She gasped as he revealed the true owner of the Elder Wand and as Voldemort attacked, she could already see the end.

The spells collided.

And then, the end? When it came? It was just as it should have been.

It was quiet and it was powerful and it was just _over_.

After a moment of stunned disbelief, the Great Hall erupted into cheers, Hermione just looked at Harry and smiled as she sagged against Ron. Someone grabbed her and pulled her into their arms and she laughed as Molly screeched into her ear. Ginny grinned at her from her place in Molly's other arm and they laughed at her excitement.

"It's so good to see you," Ginny cried, wriggling out of her mother's arms. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you," Hermione sighed into her shoulder. 

Neville's strong arms wrapped around them and he danced them around in jubilation before his grandmother pulled him away, shouting about how proud she was of him. It made Hermione grin at how pink his ears had gone.

Ron found her again after he escaped his mother, and he swung her around with a laugh.

"You were so good," he grinned. "Just like we all knew you would be."

"What about you, Ron Weasley? You were amazing!" She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek softly. "Thank you for coming back," she whispered.

He blushed and nodded, nudging her forward. 

A few of their classmates clapped her on the back as she reached the stage. Harry grinned at her and wrapped her up in his arms.

"I love you," Harry whispered in her ear. "I couldn't have done any of this without you."

"You could have," she muttered as she hugged him just as tightly. "It just would have taken you half as long without me slowing you down and you probably would have done it in all the wrong order. But you would have been fine."

He laughed as he pulled back and he saw Ginny running up to him. 

"She's at the back of the Hall," he muttered, beaming at his love. "Looks like she's waiting for someone."

Hermione grinned at him and stepped back as Ginny threw herself into his arms and snogged him to wolf-whistles and cheers from those around them. Hermione stepped back off the stage and accepted the many congratulations and thanks as she made her way through the crowd. By the time she got to where she was sure Harry meant, Minerva was nowhere to be seen. She watched the laughter and happiness, and then she turned away and stepped outside.

There, standing between the burnt and battered Great Oak Doors, was Minerva McGonagall. At the same time that Hermione's eyes found her form, Minerva stilled and turned ever so slowly. Hermione's cheeks hurt as she smiled and their eyes met.

"Hi," she breathed. It was whispered, but Minerva's eyes danced when she heard it. She smiled as her eyes roamed over Hermione's form.

"Hello love," she grinned.

Hermione didn't think. She didn't care to wait and she was not interested in propriety. She ran to Minerva and threw herself into her arms. Minerva was ready and caught her tightly, swinging her around in the doorway.

"Oh, I have missed you so," Minerva laughed, pushing Hermione's hair from her face as they came to a rest.

"I missed you. So much. But I was with you," Hermione whispered, reaching up and tracing Minerva's face. "You were with me."

"Yes," Minerva breathed, her hand cupping Hermione's cheek. "Always."

She wasn't sure who moved first, but as their lips touched for the first time, Hermione realised that this was everything she wanted for the rest of time. She wanted the window seat and the library and the kitchen she'd probably never use. She wanted the quiet nights in the library and the soft touches as they brushed past each other. She wanted to be with this woman forever. For more years than was permitted to. She wanted an eternity to get lost in this woman's heart.

She moaned as Minerva's fingers slid into her hair and realised that she could do the same. She grinned as Minerva whispered her name on her lips, and tentatively touched her tongue to Minerva's bottom lip. She seemed to like that. Minerva groaned and then froze at the noise. Hermione laughed as Minerva tightened her hold and pulled her closer, leaning them against the doorframe. Before Hermione could speak again, Minerva leaned forward again and kissed her fiercely.

Overcome by so many feelings all at once, Hermione held her breath until she couldn't. She pulled away, breathing hard as Minerva kissed a path up to her ear.

"I have searched for this moment, all my life," she muttered, her brogue much more pronounced as she rumbled in Hermione's ear. "Searched for _you_ , all my life."

"I'm here," Hermione gasped, so overwhelmed she could barely think. "I'm right here."

"You have always been here."

Hermione nodded and it was her, this time, that leaned in and captured Minerva's lips. She slid her arm around Minerva's waist and pulled her closer. Their bodies connected and Hermione's eyes fluttered at the new sensations. Minerva kissed her once more and then moved impossibly closer and drew Hermione's face into her neck.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so glad you're alright," she muttered as she nuzzled Hermione's shoulder. "I was so worried."

"I promised."

"You did," Minerva chuckled, pulling away and looking at her properly. Her eyes were bright and almost too wide. Hermione understood though; she felt the same way. "I did too."

"I know," Hermione beamed. She touched a bruise forming on Minerva's chin and frowned at the cut on her forehead. "You saved me though."

"You saved _me_ ," Minerva snorted. "From so many things."

"I -"

"Min?" Poppy's voice stopped them and Minerva stepped back. Hermione noticed that she never let go completely.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "They're bringing them in."

Hermione gasped as she realised what that meant and looked around. There were bodies and blood and Merlin knew what else all around them and she groaned as her stomach rolled.

"It's alright," Minerva said, drawing her back into her body to shield her from the awfulness around them. "It's alright, love. But I need to go."

"I know," she nodded. "It's okay. That's what you do." Minerva gave her a look and Hermione chuckled. "You lead. You always have." Minerva kissed her, lingering against her lips before she stepped away. Hermione smiled sadly as Minerva was once again drawn back into The Great Hall. "Wait," Hermione called before Minerva could step inside. Minerva indulged her and stopped at the door. "I," Hermione grinned as she realised she could say what she wanted now. "I love you."

Minerva stepped away and took the few strides back to Hermione's side.

"And I, you. My love," Minerva breathed, cupping her cheek. She stayed for one more moment before she kissed Hermione's hair and returned to the business of winning a war.

Hermione followed and watched from the door as Minerva strode forward and ordered the troops into cleanup. She had a spring in her step that Hermione had never seen and when their eyes connected over their oblivious friends and allies, Minerva winked. Hermione blushed and hid her face just as Harry and Ron joined her at the door.

"I need," Harry muttered tiredly. "To tell you. Everything."

Hermione looked up and found Minerva's eyes again, fixed on them even as she spoke to someone else. She motioned with her head that they would be outside the hall and Minerva nodded in return. Someone stepped between them, breaking their contact, but it didn't matter. Hermione knew and Minerva knew, and that was enough for now. She was patient. She'd been patient for some years now. She could wait a little longer while they got on with the business of healing and putting their world right.

Eventually, she would cry and rage and feel something other than this sort of muted, grey, relief. But for now, she motioned for Harry to lead the way and they disappeared into the castle, quietly holding hands with each other, at the end of a journey that no one else could ever understand.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Good evening my dears. It's nice not really having anything to report, except my neverending gratitude to you all for your lovely reviews.**
> 
> **And to Lib McGranger, who has done her best to make sure I don't have everyone chuckling all the time. It's become a real problem :P**
> 
> -0-

The clean up at Hogwarts took nearly a month and, if possible, only became more awful as time wore on. So many had died that there were not enough places to store them. A temporary morgue had been set up in one of the Greenhouses and all the bodies that were collected were placed under stasis until they had somewhere to go. The blood was washed from the stonework and what grass could be cleaned, was. The rest, along with the topsoil, was being ripped up by Professor Sprout and her team. Every trace of what Hogwarts and her defenders went through was scrubbed clean. 

Those that had fought, would carry the scars for her.

They worked tirelessly, some days until they had fallen where they stood. The stones were still scarred and out of place, but they would be fixed in time for the students to return. 

To that end, as their newly elected Minister for Magic, Kingsley had announced that school would resume in the New Year. Hermione had smiled for the cameras from her place beside Harry on the podium and reluctantly accepted the congratulations that came with being a 'war-hero'. They answered some questions and avoided others. The boys tried to shield her as much as possible from the worst of it. But it was still awful. She hated it. She was not a hero for surviving. None of them were.

After the immediate clean up came the funerals, the trials and the clean up of their own exploits. Apologies to Gringotts, donations to the family of Bathilda Bagshot. Hermione made her own reparations to Goodrich Castle - quietly and outside of public knowledge. Gringotts was not very forgiving until Bill stepped in and smoothed a lot of it over. Charlie had helped, speaking up for the Dragon's welfare after it was discovered that there were still two being housed underground. Both had been released into his care and Hermione had spoken quietly with Harry afterwards about keeping a good chunk of their money in Sterling, rather than Galleons.

Just in case. 

As with everything in the Wizarding World, things dragged on and on and before they knew it, it was October. They had spoken to journalists and attended victory parades and had their picture taken so many times that Hermione was sick of seeing her own face. She hadn't found the time to speak properly to her parents. She hadn't seen Minerva to talk to, or really anyone that wasn't on the Victory Tour with them, and she was so very done with everything that one night, in their hotel room in mid-October, she broke down.

The boys had comforted her until she slept and then they'd gone to Kingsley and told him that they were done, and again as it had been before, it was just _over_.

They spent an extra day, sitting together mostly in silence before their lives would change once more. Harry had already accepted a position in the Aurors from Kingsley and Ron would follow suit. He had things to do at home before joining them, but Hermione had turned her own offered position down. She'd had enough of killing to last a lifetime. 

Instead, she kissed their heads and went to Banchory. 

To rest.

To recover.

To hide. 

She assumed, perhaps presumptuously, that Minerva had kept her parents updated where she couldn't. When she popped back into existence in front of their gate, her mother came out at the sound and stood waiting with open arms. Hermione burst into tears and ran into them, secretly hoping she could stay there until everything had gone back to normal. It had been so long since she'd seen them and at first, she was wary of their anger. Whether they were angry or not, they did not show it. Instead, they helped her back from the brink of disaster.

Her release from the trauma of war was not particularly pleasant for any of them. She raged, she screamed and she spent hours locked up in her room, crying into her pillow or staring out of the window. She lost more weight than she could ill afford to lose until one day she stopped being angry and started feeling just a little brighter with each passing moment.

And so, she healed. She rested. She processed all of the pain and the suffering that they had gone through. She still cried all the time. She still vomited often, had nightmares and stopped eating for a while longer, but at every turn, her parents were there to hold her when she could stand it, or sit with her when she could not.

They had cared for her in such a way that she was gradually brought back from the brink. Between episodes of what she knew was probably PTSD, she told them the story, from start to finish, shedding tears at every moment. They soothed her nightmares and even fed her when she couldn’t manage to do it herself. And when she was a little stronger, they fixed her cracked teeth like she knew they would. Being with them had simultaneously been one of the best and hardest things she'd had to do but their bond seemed stronger for it.

And for that, she even found herself feeling thankful for some of her experiences.

By the time the week before Christmas rolled around, she was much better. Though the nightmares had not left her, she slept when she could and kept to her room, reading to her heart's content. She spent a lot of time catching up on everything she'd missed for the last year and reading all the books she'd ever loved, reminding herself of the magic that was in all things and chasing that contentment she'd had as a child.

On this day, however, Hermione's mum knocked on her bedroom door and dropped that day's copy of The Daily Prophet on Hermione's desk as she entered. Minerva had arranged for them to receive a copy not long after Hermione had left with the boys. It made Hermione smile every time it arrived but that did not seem to be the reason for her mother's visit.

"So," she said gently, settling on the bed. "Hermione."

"Yeah?" she asked. She put her finger between the pages in her book and looked up at her mum with a smile.

"You've been here for a couple of months now, right?" Hermione nodded. "And in that time, you've healed, processed," she cupped Hermione's cheek. "Fixed your teeth?" Hermione grinned. "One thing you have not done is talked."

"What?" Hermione asked, sitting up and putting her book away. "I've talked your ear off. I told you every detail that I went through. I told you about -"

"Minerva?" Jenny asked gently. Hermione faltered. "Hmm?"

"I, um -" Hermione wasn't sure what to say. "We," she frowned. "She was busy. I am waiting for her."

"How long do you think you should wait?"

"I," Hermione blushed. "Never asked. I haven't spoken to her since we left, actually. Every time we tried, we were interrupted. Between her running the repairs and being the new Headmistress and me being off with the boys," she grimaced. "Again, we didn't get a chance to really say anything. I meant to write but, with everything that has gone on, I -"

"Do you perhaps think, my darling," Jenny interrupted. "That it is time to start living your life again?"

"I'm happy here," she grumbled. "I'm healing. I don't," she blushed, inspecting her calloused hands. "Don't want to be a burden."

"Oh, my little one," Jenny smiled. "You have come so far in the time that you've been here." She chuckled and leaned over to Hermione's desk to grab the paper. "But it might be time to make your way home."

Hermione frowned and looked down at the Daily Prophet that her mother was holding out for it. On the front page, Minerva McGonagall stood, resplendent in brand-new robes, in front of Hogwarts. She smirked into the camera and waved her hand, setting off fireworks behind her and showcasing the newly-mended towers and walls. 

Hogwarts was whole again.

"I -"

"I've packed your bag," Jenny said jovially. "It's by the front door. We," she chuckled. "Might stay, if your Minerva is amenable. We quite like it up here and there's an opening in a practice not far from here that your father wants to try for. I," she grinned. "Am quite enjoying spending my time modernising Hogwarts' procedures," she squeezed Hermione's knee. "Even though I realise Minerva only gave it to us to keep us busy while we hid."

Hermione laughed and leaned back on the pillows.

"I needed you. And she knew that. She did that, for me."

"And I adore her for it," Jenny smiled. "The pay?"

"Her personal stipend towards your survival," Hermione shrugged.

Jenny rolled her eyes and then chuckled.

"I had my suspicions. Your father is so very proud."

"She -"

"Loves you."

Hermione lost her breath as she nodded.

"I wanted to help," Hermione muttered, only able to air her thoughts in whispers. "I wanted to be there. To do it with her, but -" She blinked away a tear. "I couldn't."

"She won't begrudge you for that, my darling. What you did was," Jenny shook her head. "Well, it was a lot. I," Jenny smiled. "She and I wrote a lot, when she could. She visited on and off, again, when she could. She let us know when you were okay and," she swallowed. "When she knew you were not."

"Mum -"

She hadn't known this before and it finally hit home just _how much_ Minerva loved her.

"She is your match in every way, Hermione. The way she speaks about you makes me wish that everybody could find someone who loves them that much. We spoke about her age and what she feels and thinks and," Jenny chuckled, bringing Hermione into her arms. "I'm no longer afraid for you and your heart. I am proud that you are both so brave that you would take this road. And I'll be here, we will _both_ be here for you both, while you navigate it."

"Oh Mum," Hermione sobbed into her mother's shoulder.

"I have one piece of advice for you though," she said, kissing Hermione's temple. "If there is one thing that I have learned about being in love with your dad for so long, is to just be honest. Sometimes it's hard and sometimes it hurts but honesty will get you through all of the other stuff." Hermione nodded, soaking the information up. "No matter how difficult."

It wasn't that she did not want to be with Minerva every waking moment. She ached for them to be together. But as the terror of their situation eased and the adrenaline she'd been running on petered out, she was embarrassed, almost.

Not embarrassed. So very unsure. 

She was unsure who she was, after everything that had happened. She was unsure whether Minerva would even like her, as she was now. She was quieter, more introverted and less sure of herself, at times. The experience of fighting in war had taught her that people mattered much more than she'd ever realised.

In truth, she had panicked when she realised just how fundamental those changes were.

But her mother was right. And she had been unfair. Though her worries had plagued her constantly, she had woken up to a gentle heat at her wrist and felt another before she put her head on the pillow. And in between? So many tiny moments when Minerva had made sure to let her know that she was in Minerva's thoughts.

"I wasn't being fair," she whispered as she looked up at her Mum. "I made decisions for the both of us. I was worried I'd changed too much."

"I think she knew that you needed some space to heal and rest and maybe even learn this new self," Jenny said gently, ticking Hermione hair behind her ear. "She, too, needed that as well and, of course," she tapped the Prophet. "She needed the time to mend the castle. But now it is mended and it is time to move on to the next phase of healing," she rubbed the frown from Hermione's forehead. "Together."

"How do you know when you're ready?" Hermione asked quietly.

"You don't," Jenny laughed. "You just are."

"What if she -"

"You think the woman toiled for six months to put a castle back together because she felt like it was her duty to do so?" Hermione blushed at how transparent she was being. "Seems to me she did a year's worth of work in half that time because she was in a rush to get somewhere else, no?"

"It would not be out of the realm of possibility for her to do that, but -"

"Hermione," her mother chastised. "You are so much smarter than that, my darling."

"I love her," Hermione whispered, laughing at how it felt to say it out loud. "Not like in the books, though, properly. I want to be with her," she said, imploring her mother to understand. "I just don't know how. It seemed easy when we only had moments. When this wasn't real. But -" she implored her mum to understand. 

"Let me put it another way," Jenny said with a knowing smile. "Don't go to her. You stay here and let her live her life. You can see each other at the Christmas parties every year instead."

Hermione was stricken at the thought and her mother laughed.

"Why are you still here, my girl?" Jenny asked, leaning forward and cupping Hermione's cheek. "Go!"

"I'm scared."

"So is everyone who falls in love," Jenny counselled. "It's time, darling."

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded, standing from her bed. 

"I," she blushed. "Don't know what to wear."

"Wear whatever you feel most comfortable in. Minerva is a woman who knows what she wants. And all she wants, is you," Jenny smiled.

Hermione beamed and waved her hand over outfit, changing to form-fitting slacks and a soft, blue jumper.

"Beautiful," Jenny nodded, crossing her legs and leaning nonchalantly on the bed frame. "Your father and I will see you both for New Year's," she ordered. "You enjoy your first Christmas together though. We'll exchange presents when we see each other again."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her mother.

"I'm so sorry for all the hurt. But thank you, Mum, for taking care of me."

"You are our daughter," Jenny scoffed. "Of course we were going to take care of you. As we would have in any other situation. But," she held Hennessy cheeks in her hands. "I love you, my darling Hermione and I am so very proud of you."

"I love you too."

"Get out of here," Jenny nodded to the door. "Say goodbye to your dad before you leave."

Hermione grinned, feeling a burst of energy and excitement and taking the stairs two at a time, landing in front of her father.

"I'm going, Dad."

"I see that, Peanut," he chuckled, kissing her hair. "I assume your mum has told you we'll see you at New Year's?"

"Yep," she laughed. "Love you."

"I love you, sweetheart. Have a good Christmas."

Hermione kissed his cheek and grabbed the small suitcase her mother had packed for her. She calmed, for just a moment, before she Apparated off the front-door step with a crack.

-0-

Minerva's home had not really changed since the Christmas they had first spent together. The mountains were just as clear and as impressive as they had been the last time she had seen them. They stood strong and proud as if nothing had happened in the world. She chuckled as she looked up at the snow caps. She guessed that, to the mountains, nothing _had_ changed. 

Just another war. Just another winner, just another loser. 

She shook her head and faced the house once more. The conifers were taller and the ivy thicker, but it was just the same and Hermione smiled at the sense of longing she had not realised she had. Very carefully, she stepped inside the boundary and felt the magic wash over her. Just as before, nothing happened and she let out a breath of relief. At the front door, she touched the knob and rolled her eyes at Minerva's lack of security as it popped open. 

"Silly," Hermione muttered as she stepped inside. "Minerva?"

She dropped her bag by the door and took off her hat and coat. There was a cupboard in the hallway and she opened it, smiling at the Muggle coat hanging beside the cloaks and - she peered behind a rather luxurious purple, fur cloak - a broomstick to rival even Harry's. She giggled and threw her hat on the shelf above the cloaks. She hung up her coat next to Minerva's before turning around and ruffled her hair in anticipation.

By now, Minerva should have arrived to greet her, but she remained alone in the entryway. It was not how she had envisioned this going. She laughed to herself and slipped into the kitchen, breathing deeply as the smell of a slow-cooking stew overtook her senses. She glanced at the table and found it set for two. Candles flickered gently, casting shadows on the wall and a single red carnation sat in a small vase between the two settings.

A long-forgotten picture, in a book she'd once read, came to mind. A red carnation. 

_My heart aches for you_. 

Her heart thumped happily. 

But where was Minerva?

Far be it for her to completely ruin whatever Minerva had set up, Hermione wandered up the stairs and into the library. She ran her hands over the back of the sofa where they had fallen asleep. As she stared, she had visions of them falling asleep there many, many more times before their lives were through. She moved on, to the shelves, where she'd first learned the wandless, silent magic that had helped her survive the trials she had faced. And then -

Their window.

She stood before it, not quite ready to sit in _her_ place. Not without Minerva. But as she looked out over the landscape, she got lost in the desolate landscape until she felt it. The precise moment that Minerva came home.

_Home_. 

As if she lived here too. 

A stab of nervousness left her feeling a little presumptuous. She had brought a bag, intending to stay without invitation. She stood, lost in her concerns, and felt them pile into one another. She pulled at her sleeves as she wondered whether Minerva might like what age was wearing. A hundred other little moments spring into the forgetting of her mind, all of which made her sink deeper into herself. Evidently, she was so lost in her thoughts, she jumped as two hands slid around her waist.

"Ah!"

"Easy," Minerva chuckled gently. "Only me." Hermione turned and all thoughts of not being enough were forgotten as Minerva smiled at her. "Hello, love."

There was no hesitation as they kissed like they'd been kissing each other all of their lives. Like they had lived this moment many times before. 

Like they were meant to be.

Hermione sighed into Minerva's mouth as their tongues curled around each other, and their heartbeats thumped in time with each other. A moan, Hermione did not know who made it, broke them apart. She breathed Minerva's whole being in and Minerva laughed suddenly, making Hermione join in.

"I went to your parents' to get you," Minerva chuckled, her hands framing Hermione's face. Her eyes roamed over every inch of her like she was trying to remember every detail. "Jenny explained she'd sent you _home_?"

The comment was framed like a question and Hermione sighed against Minerva's palm. 

"She did," Hermione nodded. "It was presumptuous of her, and I, to assume that might be what you might want."

"Hermione," Minerva snorted, leaning in and resting their foreheads together. "You silly woman."

"I've changed Min," she whispered. "More than I thought I had. I," she pulled away, but Minerva followed her, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I don't know if I'm the same."

"Do you feel the same?" Minerva asked carefully. "About," she looked suddenly unsure. "Us?"

"Yes? I am worried that you might not -"

"Oh Hermione," Minerva chuckled. "I have never wanted anything more than you, here or really anywhere but most certainly, with me."

Hermione laughed and wrapped her arms around Minerva's neck and kissed her soundly once more. 

"We are all changed, love," Minerva acknowledged gently as they separated. "What happened was something we will all live with, for a very long time. But, if you tell me what you need, I will do everything in my power to ensure you have it."

"Only if you do the same for me?" Hermione asked quietly. 

Minerva smiled and kissed her softly.

"I have been alone for a very long time. I may not be very good at that, yet, but I will try. Will you be patient with me?"

"I know you," Hermione smirked. "I'm a patient person." Minerva chuckled and wrapped her arms back around Hermione like she couldn't stop. Hermione didn't care. She held Minerva just as tightly and felt some of her missing equilibrium coming back. "If you would permit me," Hermione asked as she pressed soft kisses along Minerva's jaw like she'd wanted to do for years. "Perhaps I might stay for Christmas?"

"This one or the next," Minerva quipped, rolling her neck to encourage Hermione to continue. 

Hermione couldn't help but laugh and hold Minerva tighter.

"All the Christmases. Forever?"

"Deal," Minerva grinned, her hands resting on Hermione's hips. "Would you have dinner with me?"

"I'd love to," Hermione grinned. "As long as you dress properly."

Minerva's frown made Hermione smirk. She kissed Minerva softly, whispering against her lips and twirling her hand. Minerva's formal robes, that she had been wearing in the picture on the front page of the Daily Prophet, were replaced with black jeans and a deep, bottle green jumper. Her feet were bare.

"Haven't worked out how to do shoes yet," Hermione giggled as they both looked down. Minerva's toes wriggled on the carpet.

Minerva threw her head back and laughed loudly as she pulled Hermione into her side and led her from the room.

"Wait," Hermione said as they passed her bedroom. "One more thing. Would you -"

Minerva asked the question with her eyebrow and Hermione ran a soft finger over the top of her ear. 

"Absolutely," Minerva beamed. "Would you like to pick?"

Hermione nodded and they detoured into Minerva's bedroom. She stood watching as Minerva rummaged through her jewellery tray and pulled out her earrings. Hermione picked a sparkling star and Minerva fixed it and the ones in her lobes quickly and efficiently, showing them off when she was finished. 

"That," Hermione breathed as she took in the whole look. "Is rather sexy."

"This?" Minerva asked innocently, a small curl appeared at the corners of her mouth.

"Yes," Hermione nodded, trying to hide her face.

"None of that," Minerva soothed, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her closer. "I'm glad you like it. Maybe I'll start wearing it every day?"

"Your students won't know what to do."

"All the more reason," Minerva winked. 

Their hands hadn't left each other for more than mere seconds. The idea of letting go was too much for Hermione and she ran her thumb over the back of Minerva's hand. She glanced down at it, seeing their ribbon on her wrist. That, and being back in the bedroom that they'd started in, two years ago, Hermione remembered that she had something to give to Minerva.

"I have an early present for you."

"Hermione -"

"Wait," Hermione whispered. "This is important."

Minerva stepped back and leant on one hip, her arms crossed against her chest. 

"Well, I'm not giving you _your_ present early," she smirked.

"That's okay," Hermione agreed. "It's not really a present, more a," she searched for the word as she withdrew her beaded bag. "A repatriation, of sorts?"

Minerva was on her way to frowning when her watch appeared in Hermione's hand, from her bag. She held it out, smiling softly as Minerva stared. 

"Hermione?" She whispered, looking into Hermione's eyes before she stared at the watch again. "Love?"

"We happened to camp in the Forest of Dean," Hermione muttered, remembering the tremendous risk she took in retrieving it. "I," she blushed. "Had honestly forgotten about it until I was alone one night. Harry was sleeping and I was so angry at everything. Ron left, I couldn't have you, I couldn't go home. I was stuck with Harry and the," she stopped and breathed deeply. "Horcrux. And in a fit of," she shrugged. "Stupidity, I walked off to find it."

Minerva hung on every word as Hermione recounted her tale.

"You -" Minerva was shaking her head. "You left Harry? For this?"

"No," Hermione chuckled, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Minerva's ear. It seemed a lot less severe tonight. "I mean," she blushed. "Yes. But not for that," she considered that. "Not _just_ for that. For you. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I did it, but then I was already there and -"

Minerva pulled her into her arms and held on, shaking her head in one moment and laughing hysterically at others.

"I love you," Minerva smiled. "I," she glanced down at the watch. "Even without this, Hermione Granger, I love you."

Hearing the words made the tears that had begun collecting in Hermione's eyes to overflow down her cheeks. She laughed as they kissed again and Hermione helped Minerva fasten the strap around her wrist. They stared.

"I," she blushed. "Have the other band in my bag. I didn't know how sentimental it was, but I had it fixed," Minerva looked at it in her hands. "Obviously. It spent a year in the ground and by the time I got it home, it was a bit worse for wear. Dad helped me find a watchmaker in the city?" She couldn't quite meet Minerva's eyes and her ears were burning. "Mr Watkins, the watchmaker, said it was one of the most beautiful watches he'd ever had the pleasure of working on. He buffed the case, pulled all the workings and replaced what was worn and oiled it all up. He even polished the glass, but the band couldn't be saved, so he put one that was as close as he could find. I didn't -"

"It's perfect," Minerva said, her voice wobbling. "Hermione?" she said, waiting for Hermione to meet her eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll," she chuckled morosely. "Have to tell Harry at some point. I told him not to ask, and he didn't. It seems so silly now."

"I will tell him," Minerva whispered. "How much it means to me that you did this. However ill-advised."

"Not my finest moment," Hermione winced. "It was quite the experience. I'll tell you about it, I suppose. In time."

Out of habit, she clutched both hands in front of her and ran her thumb over her ribbon. Minerva stilled and took Hermione's hands in hers.

"This -" Minerva swiped her thumb over the ribbon that still sat on her own wrist and made Hermione shiver. "Was my saving grace."

"And mine," Hermione nodded. "There were so many times when I was on the verge of losing it, you were right there. Reminding me."

"I knew," Minerva muttered. "Even when I wasn't actively wondering, I always knew. When -"

A whistle sounded downstairs and Minerva blushed. 

"The food, I -"

"I smelled it when I came in. I can't wait."

"Permit me, this time? We can talk more over dinner."

Hermione smiled, making Minerva's eyes twinkle. She blushed under the scrutiny and slid her hand into the crook of Minerva's, where it was meant to be. 

"Always," she promised, letting Minerva take her to dinner and then, onto the rest of their lives.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: What is there to say? Not much I don't think. Much love to you all. Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews you write. I do try to reply to most of them whenever I can.**
> 
> **Thanks be to Lib McGranger for her work and her goodness and her support.**
> 
> -0-

Dinner, as she thought it would always be when Minerva did the cooking, was delicious. And that lovely, easy feeling that she'd been worried might never come back after all they'd been through, came back before they'd taken their seats. Minerva had not Transfigured any shoes, so Hermione slipped hers off as well when they got downstairs. It made her feel more vulnerable, though she'd been without enough times at her parent's cottage.

The feeling amplified tenfold as she sat in their window, watching the snow top the mountains. She shivered and rubbed her arms to stave off the feeling.

"Hermione?"

Hermione jumped. The teacups went flying and landed with a crash at their feet.

"Wait -" Minerva said quickly, her arm catching Hermione's middle and stopping her from running. "Love, wait," she muttered, wrapping her arms tightly around Hermione's body. Hermione's knees went weak but Minerva managed to slow their descent to the floor. "It's alright," she breathed against Hermione's ear. "It's all alright."

Hermione burst into tears. She was supposed to be beyond all of that and she had been scared. Of _Minerva._ How was she supposed to have a relationship with someone when she was so damaged.

"Breathe, my love," Minerva soothed her, rocking them gently while her long fingers combed through Hermione's hair. "Just breathe. Everything is fine."

Hermione followed direction and leant on Minerva tiredly.

"I'm sorry."

"Why," Minerva whispered against her ear. "Because your nerves are shot? Next time we see Poppy, ask her what happened when she woke me, the week after the Battle?"

"What did you do?" Hermione asked.

"Well, it took her two weeks to heal the burn and another month and a half to grow her hair back.

"Oh no," Hermione said, biting her lip. She watched as Minerva's eyes danced and couldn't help it. She snorted and then slapped a hand to her mouth but she could not contain it. She burst out laughing and before she knew it, she had wrapped her arms around Minerva's shoulders and was chuckling into her neck.

Minerva grunted a little as she stood, bringing Hermione with her.

"I thought I was okay," Hermione murmured, remembering the conversation with her mother. "I feel," she blushed. "Like I need to be prepared." Minerva frowned as Hermione struggled to articulate her fears.

"What do you mean, love?"

"It's the shoes," Hermione said, chuckling at how ridiculous it sounded. "I feel like if I need to run, I need my shoes."

"You _are_ okay," Minerva whispered. She altered her hold and slid one hand down Hermione's spine where she let it rest in the small of her back and held one of her hands against her shoulder. 

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked as Minerva pulled her away from the window.

"Dancing," Minerva muttered as though it was the most logical conclusion. "What are you doing?"

Hermione smiled and laid her head back on Minerva's shoulder.

"Watch," Minerva whispered into her hair. 

Minerva drew her wand and performed a long but uncomplicated movement and Hermione stopped, looking down at her feet.

"The intention -"

"Is everything," Minerva said gently. "Designer works," she flicked her wand and Hermione's socks changed to a pair of Louboutin high heels. "Mm," Minerva smirked. "Lovely." Hermione blushed. "Or necessity," Minerva continued. Another wave of her wand and a pair of Quidditch boots appeared. "Equally lovely for similar but different reasons."

Hermione laughed.

"Like this?" She copied the movement and Minerva's feet we clad in Black high-heel boots. It put her a few inches taller still and Hermione looked up at her with all the love she had in her eyes.

"You are amazing," Minerva muttered, shortening the heels a little and pulling Hermione into a slow waltz. As they danced, Hermione felt safer and safer in Minerva's arms. After a time, Hermione waved her hand and they were both wearing thick, fluffy socks.

"There she is," Minerva whispered proudly.

The comfort it brought her, just to be touching Minerva was something she hadn't expected. She knew that love was all-encompassing, but the act of being able to physically touch Minerva was more than she could have imagined. She smiled and pressed a kiss to Minerva's cheek. She lay her head back on Minerva's shoulder and let the soft sounds of their clothes swishing and the muted footfalls on the carpet soothe her. It made Hermione sigh comfortably into Minerva's neck.

"Do you think it will always be like this?"

"No," Minerva mused. "Sometimes it'll be better. Sometimes, it will be different. But," she dipped Hermione expertly over her arm. "As long as I am with you, I think we shall be alright?"

"That was my conclusion too," Hermione smiled as she stood back up.

The clock along the hall chimed ten and Minerva looked into Hermione's eyes.

"Shall we go to bed, love?"

"Um -"

"To sleep," Minerva soothed. "I don't think either of us is quite ready for that, are we?"

"I -" Hermione took a deep breath. "Don't know."

"Then we shall assume no and move forward together."

Hermione liked that answer and looked back at the teacups. She waved her hand over them and they reformed themselves and leapt onto the table.

"You are so very good at that," Minerva smiled, her hand wrapping possessively around Hermione's waist. She contemplated telling Minerva about all the times it had saved her life and then decided that they would get to that later.

"I had a fabulous teacher."

Minerva preened and doused the lights as they left the room.

"Where would you like to sleep?" Minerva asked gently.

"Oh," Hermione frowned "I -"

"I would love to sleep beside you," Minerva said gently, placing her fingertips over Hermione's lips. "But I am comfortable with whatever you need."

"I've been away from you for so long," Hermione muttered, taking Minerva's hand and kissing her palm. "I don't want to be away from you anymore."

Minerva beamed and opened the door to her room leading Hermione inside.

"Why don't you get ready for bed. Shower, bathe, whatever you wish, and I will make us some more tea?"

"I'd like that," Hermione nodded. "Are you -"

"Yes?"

Hermione stared at Minerva for a long time before she shook her head.

"Nevermind. Would you," she blushed. "Kiss me? Before you go?"

"I will always kiss you, love. Always tell me if there's something you need."

The feelings that had been swirling around, inside her head, fluttered away as Minerva wrapped her up and kissed her deeply. Hermione's eyes rolled and she held on for dear life as Minerva seemed to consume her soul.

"Oh," Minerva groaned against Hermione's lips. "You are so beautiful. I adore you."

"You are," Hermione mumbled, pulling out her hairpins. Minerva smiled as her hair unwound and tumbled down her back. "I think I might be the luckiest woman in the world."

"No, love," Minerva chuckled. "That would be me."

"We'll agree to disagree, shall we?" Hermione quipped, pecking Minerva's lips.

Minerva laughed and cupped Hermione's cheek before she left, closing the door behind her and leaving her to it. Hermione took stock of the room and fell in love with it as she had the first time. She giggled when her suitcase appeared on the end of the bed.

"Thank you," she called.

She took a deep breath, feeling lighter than ever. Minerva loved her and she loved Minerva and she laughed to herself as she unpacked her things and walked into the bathroom. Her mum was right. There was no getting ready for this. You either were or you weren't.

And she was definitely ready.

She showered, luxuriating under the water for a little longer than normal. She washed her hair and appreciated running water as she had done since they'd returned from the wilds. She dressed in warm pyjamas and peered around the door to see Minerva had showered in the other bathroom. She was sitting in bed, a book perched on her knees with her glasses on her nose. Her hair fell in soft curls around her face and as Hermione took a step out, she looked over and Hermione fell in love all over again.

"You are so beautiful," Hermione breathed once again. "I don't care what you say, I _am_ the luckiest woman alive to be able to see you like this."

Minerva's eyebrow arched over her glasses and she chuckled when Hermione didn't back down.

"Eventually that will wear off. I certainly don't look very put together when I wake up. I've even been known to snore. In fact," she went on, ignoring Hermione's smirk. "If I kick you in my sleep, just make sure that you -"

Hermione sat beside her on the bed and gently put her fingers on Minerva's lips.

"Have you ever just taken a compliment?"

"No," Minerva chuckled. "Not really."

"You'll get used to it eventually."

Minerva beamed at her and Hermione used the opportunity to slide her fingers into Minerva's damp hair and pull her into a kiss.

"Oh," Minerva breathed, throwing her glasses and book to the other side of the bed. 

As Hermione's fingers curled in her hair, Minerva slid her hands around Hermione's waist, her thumbs stroking over her ribs gently. Hermione didn't want this one to stop. 

As Minerva drew back scant moments later, Hermione chased her, throwing caution to the wind. She slid her tongue between Minerva's lips and was met with a moan so deep she felt it in her stomach. She could feel Minerva's hands, clenching and unclenching in her shirt and she glanced down to find them, before sinking back into their kiss. Taking Minerva's hands, she placed them under her shirt, directly on her skin.

The touch was so sensory, it almost burned her and she arched into Minerva with a sigh.

"You can touch me," Hermione whispered, resting her head on Minerva's temple. "Whenever you want."

She traced the shape of Minerva's ear with her finger and bit down gently on her lobe. She felt Minerva's sharp intake of breath, the way her hands gripped her sides and smiled. This is what she wanted and what felt right. She took a deep breath and knelt up on the bed. She smoothed Minerva's worried frown and swung her leg over Minerva's thighs and let her weight rest on them gently.

"Hermione -" Minerva breathed.

"Okay?" she asked, a touch of worry creeping in.

"Mhmm," Minerva whispered, her hands stroking from Hermione's waist to the bottom of her ribs. "Very much okay."

"Good," Hermione smiled. 

She kissed Minerva again and shuddered as she felt Minerva's hands slide around her hips and onto her backside as she was pulled closer.

"Oh, love," Minerva breathed as Hermione pulled away breathing hard. Minerva's eyes were the deepest green she'd ever seen. "I never dreamed -"

"I have," Hermione muttered, her fingers sank into Minerva's curls and she let their foreheads rest together. "I've dreamed of this moment for years. Since you fell off that silly broomstick."

Minerva laughed and kissed Hermione gently. It was softer now, and Hermione made peace with the idea that perhaps tonight was not the night for, well, all that.

"One day, you'll have to tell me about that."

Hermione blushed and settled further in Minerva's lap.

"Am I too heavy?" she asked.

"Not at all," Minerva said gently, brushing Hermione's curls away. 

"I have a confession to make," Hermione blushed. "I," she tugged on one of Minerva's curls. "Have never done anything like this."

"I cannot wait to learn something new, together," Minerva said easily.

"But not tonight?"

"You tell me," Minerva smiled gently.

"Not tonight," Hermione nodded, frowning at herself.

"Don't fret, my love. We have all the time in the world."

"I'm not," she swallowed. "Inexperienced, I just -"

"I have had a few partners in my," she cleared her throat. And then mumbled. "Sixtysomething years -" Hermione laughed and shuffled down the bed to lay directly on Minerva's chest. "Wait a moment," Minerva paused, moving the book and her glasses to a safer place and wriggling down the bed so they were lying side by side. "Come 'ere," she grinned, opening her arms. Hermione did so and she lay with her ear about Minerva's heart, soothed by the feeling of the woman's fingers scraping over her scalp. "As I was saying. I had had a few partners during my life. I was even married once," Hermione looked up at this. "To a man, he was a dear friend and he asked me every time he saw me for about twenty years. He was old, I was old, I thought it would be my one chance at," she frowned and twirled a piece of Hermione's hair in her fingers. The sadness in her eyes made Hermione want her to stop talking, but the new information about her love was everything. "A little happiness, I suppose."

"What -" Hermione swallowed, looking apologetic.

"He died," Minerva muttered. "Venomous tentacula of all things. We lived in the house your parents are currently residing in, actually. I did not want to live in Hogsmeade under everyone's noses and Aberdeen had direct access to the Ministry, where he worked."

"What was his name?"

"Elphinstone -"

"Urqhart? The Head of the DMLE?"

"Of course you would know of him," she chuckled, looking off into the distance. "What else did your books tell you?"

"Not a lot, certainly not _that_. Only that he was a great Department head; a fair leader."

"He was lovely."

"But -"

"But," Minerva said gently. "Though he loved me very much and I loved him, I was not _in_ love with him." Hermione opened her mouth to ask a question but Minerva shook her head. "At least, not like I am with you." Hermione's breath caught. "I have never felt anything close to what I feel when you are near. And when you are in my arms, Hermione, my love, I -" She sighed. "It is incomparable to any feeling I have ever heard told."

"Must be magic," Hermione whispered gently, leaning her chin on her hands to meet those green eyes.

"We are both very good at magic," Minerva agreed.

"So," Hermione said. "To sum, you're saying that while you might have had hundreds," she grinned cheekily as Minerva spluttered. "Of partners, that you'd never had this."

"Yes," Minerva snorted. "That is exactly what I am saying. I feel as though this will be my first time as well, in a way. So," she said matter-of-factly. "There is no rush. We will learn each other in time and when we are ready, we can take that step together. No matter how long it takes or doesn't take. As long as we are together, all will be well."

"I do love you, Minerva McGonagall."

"I love you, Hermione Granger."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: What a day! Liverpool lost the footy, our kid suddenly decided he needed to discuss the origins of the universe and all its beings with me at the same time my friend messaged to ask me to help her write a cover letter. Good times.**
> 
> **Lib McGranger, however, did her thang and now, unless I mucked it up somewhere, we have a lovely shiny chapter for you all. Bonza!**
> 
> -0-

Her heart was beating in her throat as she ran down the corridors of Malfoy Manor. She could hear Bellatrix cackling every time she turned a corner and it sent a bolt of fear through her heart. Just as she found the exit - a bright light at the end of the hallway - she felt someone grab her and she turned, kicking and screaming for them to let go.

"I have you now, Mudblood," Bellatrix hissed, her curved wand sliding down her cheek like a caress.

"NO!"

"HERMIONE!"

She bolted upright, scrambling to get Bellatrix off her but she couldn't get out of her grip. She fought tooth and nail as she tried desperately to get her to let go and then -

The lights came on.

"Hermione! My love, it's alright," Minerva said gently, her hands wide to show she was unarmed. "It's alright. You're safe."

Hermione blinked, her breath coming in gasps as she looked around. They were in Minerva's bedroom, at her home in Scotland. Bellatrix LeStrange was dead. The hands that had caught her were the bedsheets. She stared at her own hands; they were shaking so badly, she couldn't even comprehend how to use them to untuck the sheets that had gotten tangled around her legs.

"Easy, love. Easy."

Minerva's voice echoed in her brain. She watched, completely detached as Minerva's hand gently reached over and covered her own. The touch broke the nightmare and she blinked up at Minerva, who seemed to be prepared for anything.

"I -"

"It's alright," Minerva muttered, untucking the sheets. "It's alright."

She felt awful. Not only had she had a nightmare on the first day that they had slept in the same bed, but she was also covered in sweat and her hair would definitely be a mess and -

"Love?" Hermione looked up at Minerva's voice. "You're safe. It's alright."

"I ruined -"

"No," Minerva soothed. "No, nothing is wrong. Nothing is ruined."

"Did I hurt you?"

"No," Minerva said, smoothing Hermione's damp hair off her face. "No, everything is fine." Hermione took a deep breath and shivered as the cool air hit her skin. "Come on," Minerva whispered. "Let's get you changed and then, if you wish, you can tell me. Otherwise, if you need some space, we can move you next door -"

"NO!"

The noise was oppressive in the quiet bedroom, but Minerva didn't flinch.

"Whatever you need, love."

"You," Hermione nodded, almost absently. "Just you."

"I'm here."

Hermione nodded and Minerva helped her from the bed. She hissed when her feet touched the floor but Minerva had other plans. She bent a little and Hermione felt the world lurch as she was lifted into Minerva's arms. She was safely delivered onto the bathmat and Minerva kissed her forehead before disappearing back into the bedroom. She found another pair of pyjamas and Hermione changed in the bathroom with the door cracked, while Minerva waited outside. Her hands were still shaking and her hair was an absolute mess. She tied it up with a hair tie that she found by the sink. She chuckled when she realised it was just like her own bathroom at her parent's, and at the Weasleys. There always seemed to be a hair tie in the bathroom. She took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror, trying to remind herself that Bellatrix was dead.

"Okay?" Minerva asked as Hermione stepped through the door into the bedroom.

"I don't know," she muttered, pulling down her sleeve. "I -"

"We do not have to speak of it tonight."

"Did your brother tell you what happened?" she whispered. "Before Shell Cottage?"

Minerva frowned and her eyes went wide as she looked up at Hermione.

"He said that you had a run-in, with the Snatchers. And that you were hurt. I knew that you were -"

"Tortured." Hermione's voice broke and Minerva's arms were around her before she could blink.

"Come back to bed, it's alright," Minerva muttered. "Let's get settled."

Hermione noted that Minerva had changed the sheets and she sank into them. She could not relax though. The prospect of telling Minerva was more than she'd bargained for. 

"I thought he might have told you about what they did."

"I felt as much that you were _Crucioed_ ," Minerva whispered. "I was with Poppy. I had a," she hesitated. "Run-in, shall we say, with one of the Carrow twins. She was treating me and," she shivered. "It dropped me to my knees." She snorted. "Poppy thought I was being melodramatic. Told me to _woman up_ , as it were, until she realised. I think I might have said your name."

"I heard you," Hermione remembered. "In my head."

"After realising, Poppy suggested I meditate, as one must do when they are searching for the Animagus. I heard your screams in my head and followed them. It was," Minerva pressed kisses all over Hermione's forehead. "Awful."

"I'm -"

"Don't you dare apologise for something you did not do."

The harsh tone shocked Hermione a little and she looked up at Minerva. Their eyes met and Hermione saw the pain in them. She tried to imagine what it would be like, had Minerva gone through the things she had, and she had to hear it and feel it and be able to do nothing about it.

"I _am_ sorry that you could feel and hear me," Hermione said quietly. "I don't know what I would have done had they done it to you."

"More than I, most likely."

"No," Hermione soothed her. "No, what you did saved our lives." Minerva hummed but didn't comment. Hermione let it sit for a moment before she had another thought. "Have you tried to talk to me, in your head, since then, I mean?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Have you?"

"Yeah," Hermione chuckled. "Nothing."

"Me as well," Minerva laughed. "I suppose," she considered it for a moment. "Similarly with accidental magic as a child, our magic is tied to our existence, so when that is in jeopardy it is perhaps not outside the realm of possibility that it would react as such."

"I guess we'll find out the next one of us is in fear for their life?"

"Don't you dare," Minerva dead-panned. Hermione let some of the tension go and snuggled into Minerva's body as the silence lengthened. Minerva sighed into Hermione's hair and her grip got tighter.

"Tell me? If you can? If you want to?"

"Harry accidentally said," she stopped. "I'm not afraid of the name but I do not want to say it here," she explained and Minerva kissed her nose. 

"I understand."

"He said the taboo word and the Snatchers found us immediately. I managed to disguise Harry temporarily but Ron is pretty recognisable and I had apparently been on the front page of the Daily that morning."

Minerva made a noise but didn't interrupt. Hermione told her the tale of the Malfoys and Fenrir Greyback and Bellatrix and by the time her voice went hoarse, Minerva had tears rolling down her face.

"If I could have -"

"You did," Hermione whispered, wiping the tears and shifting so she was laying eye-to-eye. "You did, Minerva. I heard you, in my head. And you sent Dobby to save us. And then your brother. I -" She kissed Minerva softly. She tasted of tears and sadness. "You saved us. That was it for us. We had no way out."

Minerva sobbed and drew Hermione into her arms again. Hermione held her tightly as she let Minerva cry. After a few minutes, Minerva stopped and started frantically wiping her eyes.

"I'm crying and it was you that -"

"Hush," Hermione said, borrowing Minerva's words. "You felt what I felt. You were there, just as I was. I would cry had you gone through the same."

Minerva nodded but didn't speak as she traced Hermione's face. Hermione knew, though, that they weren't done.

"I," she frowned. "Will didn't tell you?"

"He did not," Minerva smiled sadly. "He said that when you were ready, you would show me."

"I shocked him, when I first saw it," Hermione explained. "He was so concerned for me, for what it might do to my mental health. And I laughed when I saw it. He was utterly perplexed."

"What did she do?"

"She -" Hermione pulled down her shirt collar and showed the thin scar across her neck. "Didn't mean to do that. Dobby threw her backwards as she had a knife to my throat."

"It has a green handle," Minerva's lip curled.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "But that wasn't what she did first."

"Hermione," Minerva said cautiously.

"Don't overreact. I put no weight to it at all. It doesn't mean anything to me," Hermione whispered. "Except as a badge of honour for what I've achieved."

"A badge -"

Minerva frowned at her as Hermione rolled up her sleeve. As she shifted and offered her wrist to Minerva, Hermione watched closely as a bevvy of emotions crossed her face. It settled on anger.

"This is not an insult to me," Hermione said before Minerva could start. "This is a label that holds no meaning to me. She thought it would mark me inferior. And yet," she said gently, kissing Minerva's chin, where she could reach. "Look at all I have done. As a mudblood."

"Don't call yourself that," Minerva almost snapped.

"Why," Hermione said gently. "Who proclaimed that I should be ashamed of that?"

Minerva opened her mouth to argue and then closed it again as she saw Hermione's reasoning. 

"If we perpetuate the blood-purity nonsense, it will perpetuate," Minerva nodded sadly. "Even so," she whispered. "May I?"

She asked so softly that Hermione used that hand to pull Minerva into a kiss. 

"Whenever you wish."

Minerva pulled that hand close to her lips and pressed a kiss to Hermione's palm. It wasn't one to excite or to evoke a reaction, it was a kiss of sorrow and of love. Minerva smoothed her thumb over the ribbon that remained tied on the wrist and Hermione nodded. She pressed kiss after kiss down Hermione's arm, over the raised scar until she had kissed every letter that had been etched into her skin.

"I love you," Minerva muttered as she pulled away. "So much that it terrifies me."

"As you said," Hermione soothed her quietly. "I am here."

Minerva took another look at Hermione's arm and ran her finger over the letters. She paused, but Hermione just smiled in encouragement.

"I am sorry that you bore the brunt, all your life, of people who thought you inferior because of your blood."

"I am sorry that others will too unless we change it," Hermione nodded grimly.

They lay together, taking solace in one another for a time before Minerva rolled onto her back and pulled Hermione with her. Their legs intertwined like they had been sleeping beside each other forever and Hermione sighed against Minerva's chest. 

"If it's any consolation," she said suddenly, noticing something she had missed. "I felt the same way, when this happened." She didn't touch, not wanting to evoke those memories, but she did pull the neck of Minerva's shirt down a touch. The scars shone brightly even in the low light. Minerva made a noise of understanding. "And when you damaged your rather nice arse," Hermione deadpanned as she ran her hand over Minerva's ribs and squeezed that arse cheekily.

Minerva snorted and covered her mouth and then laughed when Hermione did as well. They laughed until they cried and Hermione tucked herself back under Minerva's chin still giggling.

"Och, that was a terrible injury," Minerva shook her head. "I am so sorry for being pig-headed, and for making you deal with it. I should have gone to Poppy."

"I was alternating between melting into a puddle and self-combusting, only to find out you'd nearly amputated yourself. That put the kibosh on everything."

"I am sorry," Minerva chuckled. "I couldn't really turn properly and -" She had the good graces to look a little ashamed. "You were right, the nerves were damaged. I couldn't feel much so I hadn't realised. You did a fantastic job though," she added with a smile. "Poppy said it healed perfectly."

"You're welcome," Hermione blushed.

"Also," Minerva said, imperiously. "In fairness, I didn't know how you felt then?"

"Pathetic excuse." Hermione shook her head. "You like to think you're so tough. A superwoman."

"A what?"

Hermione shook her head and kissed Minerva soundly.

"A Muggle super-being. With powers of invincibility and the like."

"You have to remember I am old," Minerva said, straight-faced, but with a twinkle in her eye. "I'm not up on the lingo."

"You're hopeless," Hermione said affectionately. "I might even get used to it one day," Hermione quipped. Minerva snorted again and kissed Hermione's hair before letting her head fall back onto the pillow with a contented sigh. "Sleep," Hermione whispered, reaching up and tracing the frown marring Minerva's face. "I'll be here."

"I love you, Hermione," Minerva muttered, unable to resist the thrall. 

Hermione tangled their legs together and closed her eyes. Even as she slept, Minerva held tight around and Hermione realised that this really was where she was home. 

Right there, in Minerva's arms.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Ok, this is a little late. You look at one TikTok and five hours later you realise you've not eaten, had a cuppa or posted your chapter!!! I'm so sorry lol**
> 
> **Lib McGranger is feeling a bit under the weather so give her some love and thanks for this fic!**
> 
> -0-

The warmth of Minerva's body on her back woke Hermione with a smile. She had clearly been more exhausted than she thought as neither of them had thought to draw the curtains and the light that streamed in was enough to make her wince. 

Minerva, as it turned out, did not snore so much as purr, and Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from chuckling as Minerva nuzzled her neck and mewled happily. Evidently, there was some truth in the theory of a little bleeding between Animagus and Human.

Minerva's arm was under the pillow beneath her head and the other wrapped possessively over Hermione's stomach. She closed her eyes as the butterflies fluttered beneath it. They weren't ready for more than gentle touches, just yet, but Hermione couldn't wait until they were. The feeling of Minerva's hands on her skin was almost overwhelming.

"You think so loudly," Minerva grumbled, her voice gravelly from sleep.

"You purr in your sleep," Hermione whispered.

"You're a liar," Minerva muttered, her teeth nipping at the back of Hermione's neck.

"Oi," she chuckled, twitching at the sudden sharpness. "Maybe I should lie more often?"

Minerva chuffed and pulled her closer, nuzzling under her hair with a sigh.

"That was the best sleep I have had in many months," Minerva sighed, suddenly yawning. 

"Me too."

"No more nightmares?"

"Not once your arms were around me."

Minerva let go and Hermione rolled a little to watch her whole body stretch. She heard a few pops and clicks and chuckled when Minerva moaned.

"We shall hope that that is what is needed to keep them at bay then."

"Do you still get nightmares?" she asked cautiously.

"Often," Minerva shrugged. "But I also did not suffer from them last night." Hermione grinned. "Now," Minerva nodded. "Tea or coffee in the mornings for my love?"

"I do like it when you call me that," Hermione smiled. 

"I love watching the smile appear after I do so."

"We're so soppy," Hermione chuckled.

"In love." Minerva corrected.

"Both," Hermione grinned. "But yes," she whispered. "Very much so."

"I am not one to laze in bed in any case. Would you join me? Or shall I bring it to you?"

"I'll join you for coffee, I think," Hermione nodded, standing and immediately hopping back into bed. "Minerva! The floor is icy."

"Oh," she chuckled as she glanced out of the window. "It snowed! Significantly. You'd best put your slippers on," she chuckled, doing just that. 

"I don't know that I have slippers anymore," Hermione mused. "I guess I'll," Minerva watched expectantly as she summoned a pair of socks and pulled them on before sitting back on the bed and looking intently on at her feet. She waved her hand, feeling the same magic in her fingers as she had in her wand and her socks turned into the softest slippers she'd ever had.

"Perfect," Minerva smiled proudly. "Now, I will get a head start and start the fires. You meet me in the kitchen."

Minerva strode out of the room, summoning her gown as she did and Hermione turned to find her robe in the chest of drawers where her things had been lovingly placed the night before.

"I almost forgot," Minerva said, striding back into the room. Hermione opened her mouth to ask what she had forgotten, but she was swept up into a kiss that tasted of new beginnings. "I won't forget again," Minerva smiled, as she pulled away. 

"Is it bad form to swoon?"

Minerva's laugh echoed in the hallway as she went downstairs.

-0-

And so, the hours passed. Hermione realised, quite by accident when they were curled up together on the sofa in the library much later, that there was no way she could have imagined this moment. She chastised herself for making up such scenes and scenarios that could never exist because, in order for them to exist, she had to have Minerva's input as well. It was a pleasant notion, therefore, to now be able to experience the true version of their love. With both parties making every second a beautiful experience.

"You do sigh so, love," Minerva chuckled, kissing her shoulder.

They were sitting perpendicular to each other; Minerva's feet propped up on the coffee table in front of them and Hermione laying with her head on Minerva's thigh. It was heaven.

"I was just considering the implications of imagination. And how nothing one can ever imagine can ever be as good as the real thing. Or as bad, I suppose," she muttered. 

"Brought on by -"

"Back in the beginning, when I first realised my feelings for you, Ginny correctly guessed them without much evidence and I, naturally, panicked. While she was talking me off the ledge, she asked me to think about what it would be like," Hermione reached up and traced Minerva's jawline. "To just _be_ with you. To read together, work together, cook, laugh," she shrugged. "Whatever, _together_. I refused to consider it at the time, but I did later when I was alone." She blushed at Minerva's look. "Not like that," she laughed.

"And you are considering one-sided imaginings because this is not as good as you imagined?" Minerva asked carefully. Hermione laughed again.

"No, silly," she brought Minerva's hand from her stomach to her mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "It's better. I couldn't have imagined this, because at the time I didn't know you properly. I just knew that after those moments I'd had and after realising my feelings, I just," she sighed. "I wanted _something_ with you."

She looked up to see the surprise on Minerva's face.

"When?" she asked.

"Grimmauld Place, in the garden."

Minerva's mouth fell open as she arched her neck to look at Hermione.

"Really?"

Hermione blushed.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Minerva chuckled. "I was," she shook her head. "I was having a terrible day. I have always been afraid that I was such terrible company that afternoon. I," Minerva blushed this time. "That may have been why I agreed to the Quidditch game. I didn't really know what was happening but I wanted you to see I was more than," she sighed. "Professor McGonagall. That I was more than _that day_."

"I knew," Hermione shook her head. "You didn't need to go and get yourself brained for that."

"Bless Ronald and his poor temper."

"He's come a long way," Hermione smiled, thinking of her friend. "He's already decided we're going to be godparents to all of his future children," she smiled. Minerva's face softened.

"I can't wait."

"Do -" Hermione bit her lip, trying to decide whether she should ask such a question so early.

"Children?" Minerva asked. Hermione nodded. "I do like the idea but have always thought I was too old. It never occurred to me that the love of my life might well be young enough."

Hermione laughed and played with Minerva's fingers bashfully.

"So now?"

"I honestly do not know. You?"

"Not soon," Hermione shrugged. "Not so soon after all this. And I think I would like to keep you to myself for a while before we decide? I am, obviously, more than okay with sharing you with Hogwarts, but I would like some moments to be just us, for a while. And," she chuckled. "I am more than young enough to do that _and_ have children later."

"You are so very sensible, my love," Minerva whispered. She ran her nails over Hermione scalp. "I think that is a good plan."

Hermione sighed and picked her book up and started reading again as Minerva did the same. There was one thing that her imagination had got right. 

This, being with Minerva, was perfect.

-0-

Hermione was fully entranced in her book when her cushion moved. She smiled as she felt Minerva sigh and a page turned forcefully above her head.

"Would you like to move?" she asked with a barely concealed grin.

"I'm sorry," Minerva huffed. "I am restless."

"Don't be sorry," Hermione said, stretching across Minerva's lap. "You've been fighting and working every day for the last seven years almost. It stands to reason that you won't be able to sit around as much anymore."

"So have you," Minerva said a little petulantly.

Hermione sat up and leant into Minerva's side. It wasn't cold but the snow outside was a good excuse to snuggle.

"Well, most of last year was me sitting in a tent waiting for something to happen. So I have that going for me."

Minerva opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again, smiling gently as their eyes met.

"I am so glad you are alright."

"Me too," Hermione sighed. "About you, not me. Although I am, glad I mean, that I am -"

Minerva kissed her and she laughed, yanking her head away.

"Did you just shush me?" Hermione grinned.

"You do babble so," Minerva smiled. "I also realised it has been hours since I last kissed you. I felt that situation needed to be rectified."

Hermione laughed and shifted so she could kiss Minerva back. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered happily and she sighed as it ended naturally.

"The memory of sitting with you, on that window seat when you were upset?" Minerva said quietly. "Got me through some of the darkest times, last year."

"Me too."

"I -" Minerva sighed. "Have never been so afraid."

"We made it though."

"We did," Minerva sighed. She slid her hand into Hermione's hair and then drew it back out again. "I -"

"What is it?" Hermione asked. "You aren't usually this cautious?"

"You told me when you had feelings for me. I am afraid of telling you when I first noticed you, as a woman, and not my student."

"You don't have to be afraid. That is for us and not anyone else," Hermione said gently. "I think we've established that in some form or other perhaps we were meant to be together?"

"Of that I am certain."

"When was it?"

"I thought you looked utterly beguiling at the Yule Ball. And it annoyed me that your friends treated you badly and that Victor Krum had his hands on you. I did not realise it at the time. I was so busy making sure Fr -" she swallowed. "The Twins hadn't spiked the punch but afterwards, when I was alone, I realised that I had noticed you at every moment."

"Why would that make you afraid?" Hermione asked gently.

"Because you were 15!"

"You never once, not even when I _was_ of age, indicated anything to me about how you felt. Until you knew that I was not really your student any longer." She smoothed Minerva's hair. "Noticing that someone looks pretty, does not equal intention, Min."

"True," Minerva mused. "When Albus -" she croaked, her voice cracking under the pain. "When you came to me. I knew then. Properly. The horror I felt at nearly hexing you was -"

"I know," Hermione whispered.

"You stopped me."

"I did." 

"From saying something, not from hurting you.'

"Both," Hermione conceded. "It wasn't our time. Not then. I," she winced. "Made the choice for both of us."

Minerva looked at her, with fire in her eyes. There was a frown embedding itself into her forehead and then, just as quickly, Minerva closed her eyes.

"I apologise."

"Why," Hermione asked, moving to trace Minerva's features. " _I_ apologise. _"_

"Don't," Minerva waved her off. "I am spoiling for a fight. And I do not wish to sully our beginnings with grumblings of an old woman. No matter how I feel about it, you were correct to stop me. And it will, perhaps, always make me uneasy how early I noticed your beauty." Hermione shrugged and kissed her instead. "Why did you follow me?" Minerva asked suddenly. "Most people, even my friends, would not have. Not after such a blow."

"Ah," Hermione chuckled. "I thought it odd at the time, but," she smiled, remembering. "Madam Pomfrey," she winced. "Poppy sent me. Didn't say anything, but she encouraged me to go."

"She is my best friend," Minerva whispered, before meeting Hermione's eyes. "After you."

"She's your sister," Hermione shrugged. "Now I've known Ginny for so long, I understand."

Minerva laughed and Hermione felt some of the tension leaving her.

"You are right in that I did not really comprehend my feelings for you until much later," Minerva mused, returning to the subject. "Perhaps I did know, at the party I mean." She blushed. "By the time I hurt my leg, I was sure that I needed to be close to you, even if I did not know why."

"The truth is, Min," she offered, waiting for Minerva to look at her. "It doesn't really matter when we realised. Only what we do with it now."

"You are so very wise, my love," Minerva breathed. "Thank you."

"Why don't you take me for a walk? I will gladly brave the snow for you."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione kissed her, in lieu of reply and Minerva nodded. They changed into warmer clothes and Hermione wandered down the stairs while Minerva pottered in the kitchen.

"I thought we'd take a thermos?" Hermione smiled so softly that Minerva paused. "Are you alright?"

"I love you," Hermione shrugged, her face heating up. "Just," she chuckled. "A lot."

Minerva took two steps toward her and swept her up in her arms. She couldn't help but giggle as her feet left the ground.

"I love you," Minerva said emphatically. "Ever so much. More than I might have the words to express to you."

Hermione kissed her sweetly and after gathering their things, they wandered outside into the snow.

"Oh," Hermione sighed, watching her breath on the air. "It is beautiful."

"Ah," Minerva said. "I remember; a lover of winter."

"You have a good memory."

"I try," Minerva hedged. "You should see this place in the summer."

"I can't wait," Hermione breathed.

Minerva offered her arm and Hermione curled around it, leaning into Minerva's shoulder. They walked quietly for a while out into the grounds of the house and then, after a moment of caution, into the outside.

"How long have you had the house?" Hermione asked conversationally.

"Few years."

"Do you regularly leave it unlocked?" Hermione asked, remembering she wanted to ask about her arrival but hadn't got around to it.

"Sorry?" Minerva asked, looking at her sideways.

"When I got here, the door was unlocked. It just let me in. I'd have thought you would be a bit more security conscious."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say as Minerva didn't answer. Her eyes were darting from one place to the next, so fast that it was making Hermione dizzy just watching.

"Minerva?" she said gently. 

She got no response and they walked a little further with Minerva on high alert until Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. She stepped out in front and turned back only for Minerva to crash into her and knock them both into the snow. She laughed as an indignant huff preceded the unimpressed eyes that met hers above the drift.

"The war is over," Hermione said gently. "Nothing is going to happen. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"You," Minerva's eyes hardened and Hermione realised she might have miscalculated how much it was affecting Minerva. "Were tortured by people that -"

"I don't need reminding," Hermione snapped. "I was there."

The look that had appeared disappeared just as quickly and in place of her love, sat a tabby cat mewling pathetically.

"Min," she groaned. "You didn't need to do that," she muttered. "It's alright."

The cat climbed into her lap and butted under her chin, before transforming back into Minerva. Hermione was not upset in the slightest when that resulted in Minerva straddling her thighs.

"I'm so sorry, love."

"I'm not," Hermione mumbled.

"I should have -"

"Let it go," Hermione said finally, getting her brain back in working order. 

"They're spelled to you," Minerva said, without context. "The wards," she clarified as Hermione frowned. "The door was not unlocked; it unlocked for you." Hermione stared and Minerva took pity on her. "I wanted you to be able to," she swallowed. "Come _home_ when you were ready."

Minerva squeaked in surprise as Hermione set upon her and kissed her with all that she had. They kissed passionately for a while before it turned gentler. She laughed as Minerva pushed her back and nuzzled her cold nose under her collar. As Hermione lay looking at the sky, she breathed Minerva's name and smiled as the snow started to fall again. The ground was cold under Hermione's back but she was warm everywhere else as Minerva took possession of her mouth. Hermione took the opportunity to trace Minerva's thighs, using the seams of her wet-weather gear to guide her up, cupping her backside with glee. Minerva moaned as Hermione squeezed the globes under her hand and when Minerva pulled away, Hermione was panting.

"If we do that for much longer, we'll melt the snow," Hermione quipped.

Minerva laughed so loud it echoed through the trees. She cupped Hermione's cheek then stood, helping Hermione up with a heave.

"I needed that, thank you."

"The fight, the snog or the laugh?" Hermione smirked.

"All three," Minerva teased, sliding her own hand down Hermione's back and squeezing her bum a little. "Fair's fair," she muttered as Hermione looked at her sideways.

"I concur," she chuckled. She slid her hand into Minerva's and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

It was certainly not a terrible way to spend Christmas every year for the rest of her life.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: This is for everyone that always begs me for a sequel to things. I don't write sequels lol so here're three chapters of sequel :P Much love xx**   
>  **Also - finally - NSFW ;)**
> 
> **Thank you to Lib McGranger who got this done post-haste so I didn't have to miss a day. Much love :)**
> 
> _NB: When you get there - Eòghan is pronounced Owen, give or take a very soft y sound before the o._
> 
> -0-

The Christmas of 1998 was the beginning of everything, as far as Hermione was concerned. She may have loved Minerva before that, but those moments of contemplation and cautious beginnings had ignited their love properly. That Christmas they had spent their quiet, alone time, healing and talking and getting to know each other all over again. She remembered their soft words and softer hands and sighed into her mug. 

Eleven years later, she was sitting in their window, waiting for her love to return home for Christmas. Hogwarts had been particularly gruelling this year with so many additional enrollments for that year and the next and Minerva had spent a lot of time expanding Dorms and Common Rooms and making sure that Hogwarts was running as smoothly as it ever did. It was also the first year Minerva had worked with the new Muggle ambassador and though the parent was well suited to the position. After ten years of working with her mother, Minerva had found it hard to initiate the new personality. 

Tonight, though, was Christmas Eve and Minerva had a full three weeks off. Hermione could not wait for her to come home. A soft burst of heat from the ribbon on her wrist comforted her but it was not enough. 

She noted, absently as she sipped her tea, that the mountains were clear this year. No snow had fallen on the tops yet, but the cold weather had definitely settled in. She had spent most of the day thanking herself for the idea of putting underfloor heating in most of the rooms. It had not been cheap, but between them, it was a luxury they most certainly could afford. A noise from the hallways made her sigh as she sent her cup to the table without a thought.

"Come in, little mouse."

The door opened and a tiny head, preceded by riotous black curls, popped into view. He looked just like his mother.

"Mama?" 

"Yes, cherub?"

"When is Mummy coming home?" he asked, his fingers twisting together - a habit, Hermione noticed, he'd picked up from her.

"Exactly when I told you and your sister at dinner," she chuckled, patting her thigh to invite him up. "She will be home before you wake up tomorrow."

He ran to her and clambered up onto her lap, aided by Hermione's hand under his bottom. There were times when he had Minerva's grace but there seemed to be more times when he had Hermione's.

"Is Santa bringing her?"

Hermione chuckled. 

"No baby," she soothed. "The students only left yesterday and Mummy has a bit of work to put away before she can come home."

"But -"

"Alex?"

"Yes, Mama?"

"Close your eyes, sweetheart."

She tucked him under her chin and settled in. She ran her hand through his hair and hummed his favourite tune while she watched the mountains. Before long, she heard him sigh, snuggle even deeper into her arms and fall asleep.

They had gone back and forth over whether to have children for years. They enjoyed their time together, alone. They travelled and went on adventures. They took classes together and stayed up far too late and drank far too much on special occasions. They were a regular fixture at Will and Poppy's, often looking after Adie while Lucy found some rare alone time herself. They watched James and Albus for the Potters and then Lily as well when she came along. They really did become the Godparents of Hugo and Max Weasley. But they remained childless until one day, Minerva came home for the Half-Term, with a look in her eyes that made Hermione stop what she was doing and wait for whatever earth-shattering news she had to impart.

"I want a baby," Minerva had said, blurting it out almost without meaning to. Hermione had laughed a little at the panicked look on her face, but she soothed Minerva's worry in no time at all. 

"Okay," she had shrugged. The truth was that it had been on her mind as well and when Minerva's wants had matched with her own, it had been an easy decision. 

She pressed a soft kiss to Alex' head and got up, groaning as her back pulled with his weight. At three, he had the intelligence they both shared and was lanky like Minerva. His twin, Caitrìona - Cat for short - was more Hermione's build but her eyes shone bright green like the rest of the McGonagall's and had the matching hair as well. 

They had decided, quite early, on Gaelic names as an homage to Minerva's heritage; Alex was officially named Alasdair. Cat, taking after both her parents, had talked long before Alex was ready but had struggled with his name, falling short at Alas. And so, Alasdair turned into Alex to all but his Mummy, especially after their precocious little Cat had declared it to be so to all of their family.

Deciding that she had better not put him back into his bed on the off-chance Cat woke up, she plumped up the pillows on their new sofa and tucked him behind the pillows she placed so he didn't roll off. The sofa that had been _their_ sofa had given out not too long ago. Hermione had waved her wand over it absently, transfiguring it into a deeper, squishier sofa to help her sore back and the whole thing had collapsed; one too many Transfigurations had finally dismantled the joints. She'd sent word to Minerva, who insisted she simply buy another and she had done so. But, after so many a long night enjoying that sofa, the dismissal had hurt a little. She let those memories fade as she settled their son. She brushed away his curls and tucked a blanket around just as a cry went up. She scoffed at herself for imagining she would have a quiet night and went off to gather their youngest. Eòghan was a perfect mix of them both. His fairer hair and his slight build made him almost the spitting image of Hermione as a baby - something Jenny had taken delight in when he was born. His eyes though, were the family legacy. Bright green, that took in every detail in every moment.

To be honest, though she would never tell another soul, they had not been trying for a third. After her pregnancy with the twins, which had done a number on her body and had been fairly traumatic for all four of them, they had decided that two was quite enough. And, as usual, in the quiet of their room when the twins had been just-gone-two, Minerva had smoothed a hand over Hermione's hip and started something that she finished off quite nicely and Eòghan had been born nine months later. 

In hindsight, it was amusing.

She picked the baby up as gently as she could, hoping to save him from waking properly. Six months ago, Minerva had caught him as he emerged into the world, with his Aunt Poppy coaching Minerva from beside Hermione's head. After the rush and the panic that the twins had been birthed under, it was nice to have been blessed with that. But now they really were done. Poppy had already cautioned her about putting her body through the strain again. She had yet to break the news to Minerva.

She soothed Eòghan gently as she summoned a bottle from the warmer. It had bothered her when her milk had dried up early but Minerva, as usual, had read everything there was to know about it and had proclaimed it to be just how things go sometimes. It had rankled Hermione a little until she'd seen Minerva race to get his bottle when he wanted feeding. And while it still bothered her from time to time, Minerva's love for their children soothed that ire anytime it cropped up.

Like tonight.

Christmas Eve was _not_ the time that they had agreed upon Minerva coming home. In truth, Minerva should have been home three days ago, but she had sent an owl four days earlier explaining that she would be late and that it would be alright.

_That she promised to be home for Christmas_.

The hall clock chimed midnight and Hermione sighed. Now that the children were all asleep, save Eòghan who seemed to be well on his way, she would lay out the presents under the tree and on the bottom of the children's bed in their stockings, or rather, on the sofa for Alex. She frowned at the thought. Minerva had never missed a Christmas with her. Not since their first Christmas together.

Another burst of warmth from their ribbon only made her roll her eyes. Her patience was running out and with Eòghan gurgling in his sleep, she removed the bottle from between his lips and spent a few minutes rubbing his back gently. He had been an angel for her and she knew she was so very lucky to have been blessed with such an easy-going child after the whirlwind that was Cat and Alex. She placed him back in his cot and tucked him in gently. She waved her hand over the nightlight and sent it spinning slowly, putting dancing snitches on the walls of his room - a present from his Uncle Harry and Aunty Ginny.

Just as she was leaving the room, she bumped into a figure coming in.

"Hello love," Minerva said easily. Hermione didn't reply. She wrapped her arms around Minerva's neck and held on. "Oh I've missed you so," Minerva muttered, wrapping her arms around her. "More than ever."

"I thought -"

"I promised," Minerva smiled. "And I have yet to break a promise to you."

Hermione hummed sadly and closed Eòghan's door as they shuffled into the hall. 

"You haven't," she acknowledged thankfully. "Not yet anyway."

Minerva kissed her softly, moaning a little when it turned desperate.

"In a moment, my love," Minerva whispered. "Let me say goodnight."

Hermione nodded and unbuttoned Minerva's robes, helping her out of them and draping them over her arm. She took down the pins from her hair and ran her fingers through it carefully. It still retained it's inky blackness, despite Hermione already finding grey in her own. She told herself she wasn't jealous.

"Go on then Mummy. I think I'll take a shower," she sighed. "They'll be up early tomorrow."

Hermione turned to go. Just as she was out of range of Minerva's long arms, the woman moved and Hermione felt herself being drawn back into Minerva's body.

"I love you," Minerva muttered. Hermione opened her mouth, but in the dark hallway, she just couldn't.

"I know," she muttered. 

Without looking, she left Minerva to it, knowing Minerva would find her way to Alex once she'd been in to kiss their daughter goodnight. It wasn't that she begrudged Minerva for her role as Hogwarts Headmistress. She had always promised that she didn't, but with Alex and Cat now at a stage where they were demanding more and more attention and Eòghan being the easy-going child that he was, she was starting to feel the strain of being pulled in three directions. Or pulled in two directions and not having time for, or ignoring, the third. Only yesterday in the fifteen minutes she'd spent feeding Eòghan, Cat was in the kitchen, perching precariously on a stool to get the bag of chocolate coins from the top of the pantry. Alex had apparently helped her push the chair up to the door and between them, they'd nearly toppled over into the bag of flour that had already exploded at their feet and the three pounds of potatoes that were strewn across the tiles. 

It had not been her finest hour and they'd been told off quite summarily. As often happened, however, Hermione had immediately regretted it and taken them into her arms and explained that all they had to do was ask her. And if they could have something they wanted, she would get it for them and if they could not, she would explain why and they would do their best to work out what they could have instead. 

Minerva, it seemed, never lost her temper with them. She'd play and frolic and then she'd discipline too, but no matter what happened, she would speak to them calmly and rationally until they understood.

It grated on her that she could not seem to do the same.

Cool air swirled around her feet and she blinked through the spray to see Minerva stepping in with her.

"You don't mind, do you darling?"

"No," she said tiredly.

Minerva's arms wrapped around her middle and Hermione sighed as her love's bare breasts pressed into her back.

"What has you so gloomy on Christmas Day?"

"Nothing," Hermione sighed. "Just tired."

She hummed as Minerva's hands started creeping up her stomach and arched just a little as they cupped her breasts.

"Too tired?" Minerva asked gently.

Hermione ached to say that she wasn’t, but she could already feel the exhaustion creeping in and the prospect of having the twins slam open the door at five in the morning was a huge consideration.

"Perhaps," she whispered, not willing to speak it quite so loud.

"Alright," Minerva said, sounding cautious. She let go and Hermione's heart squeezed painfully. "Let me take care of you, then."

Hermione didn't have it in her to argue and she let Minerva take control. By the time the washcloth had run all over her body, there were tears building in her eyes and when Minerva started massaging shampoo into her scalp, she burst into tears.

"Love," Minerva said desperately, helping to rinse her hair quickly. "What is it?" Hermione shook her head as the last of the shampoo washed away. "Please, Hermione. Talk to me."

"I miss you," she cried, pushing Minerva's hands away, angry at herself for being so weak. "I miss you, every moment of the day. I turn to you to tell you something Eòghan has achieved, or something Cat said that was so funny or so smart and something tremendously terrifying but so brave that Alex has done and you're just not there. They ask me all the time when Mummy is coming home and honestly I never know. Every day blurs into one and I'm so sick of it and I -" she cried into her hands. "I don't want to hate them. I love them with every fibre of my being but I am so sick of doing this on my own."

"Shh," Minerva said, pulling Hermione against her chest. "Shh. I know, my love. I know."

Hermione wept. Minerva shuffled them back and let the water keep them warm as they swayed in nothing but their skin. As the tears dried and the fog cleared from her mind, something about Minerva's words bothered her and she looked up to find Minerva's sad smile.

"I'm retiring," she said gently. 

Hermione gaped. 

"You're -" she shook her head, thinking that perhaps the water was garbling the words. "You're what?"

"Retiring," Minerva said louder, her hands stroking up and down Hermione's spine. "I noticed last time I was home that you were sinking in on yourself and I have been doing my best to wrap everything up. Filius is going to take over. I had actually planned on surprising you all tomorrow with the news."

"You just -"

"You and the children are everything to me. I am well aware of my shortcomings, Hermione. You think, after all these years, I can't read your mood from your letters? That I can't feel what you feel through our ribbons? Hermione, I have failed you."

"No," Hermione almost yelled, cupping Minerva's cheek. "No. Not at all. I am the one -"

"I asked you for children and you," Minerva kissed her softly. "Gave them to me," she smirked. "And then some. Then, I left you to bring them up alone, while I went to live in the Castle and pretend like I didn't have you and three babies waiting for me at home."

"Min -"

"It's alright. I had a few very frank discussions with Poppy in these last few months. Lucy told her."

"Oh," Hermione said, pulling away. "I'm -"

Minerva bent a little to meet Hermione's eyes and took her hands in her own.

"I wish _you_ had told me."

"You were busy. It was during the conference, I didn't want to -"

"Hermione," Minerva said sadly. "We have always been honest with each other, have we not?"

"Yes," she muttered.

"You could have told me."

"You're right," Hermione groaned. "I should have told you."

The incident they were speaking off happened a number of months ago. Eòghan had been barely a few months old and after no particular incident to speak of, Hermione had turned up at Lucy's door and dropped off the twins in floods of tears. She had returned apologetically an hour and a half later and when asked, she said that she needed a short break. Even now, thinking back on it, Hermione could not pick one thing or other that might have been the reason.

Apparently begging Minerva's niece not to say anything had not really worked. Nor should it have, had Hermione been thinking clearer.

"It is a moot point now, my darling. I will retire at the end of the year but for now, you have me for eight glorious weeks."

"Eight?" Hermione's breath hitched.

"I have a lot of holiday time to use that that I was unaware of. I will need to go back a few times here and there but I expect we will make a great deal of money when they pay it all out."

"Eight weeks," Hermione repeated.

"You could go away for a while if that is what you wished? I know you wanted to -"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, frowning. 

"To get away? I can stay and you can -"

"You think I -"

Hermione shut off the water and slapped back the curtain, getting out without preamble. She ripped the towel from the wall and wrapped it around her body, leaving Minerva to fend for herself. She slammed the drawers to their dresser as she tried not to explode. That Minerva thought she needed time from their family and that they needed time apart. When they had been nothing but apart for so long. She pulled on her pyjamas and got into bed, punching her pillow even as her heart broke. 

"I have hurt you," Minerva whispered as she joined her in bed not long after. Hermione didn't speak, but she could tell Minerva knew she was awake. "Please speak to me."

"Why, you've already decided everything."

That was designed to hurt and immediately felt awful. She shook her head and turned.

"Remember our first Christmas as a couple, after the war?" Minerva nodded. "Well, now _I_ am spoiling for a fight. I apologise."

Minerva sighed and brushed Hermione's hair back.

"Honestly?" Minerva asked her. Hermione nodded. "I feel like I have let you down in every conceivable way. I asked you for children. Made children with you, then left you to raise them. I come back here, like a hero, to be the exciting one. To take them to exciting places, to do none of the hard work. And you let me, because you love me. I have failed you in the basest possible way."

"I have failed you," Hermione sighed. Minerva looked scandalised and Hermione held up her hand to forestall the argument. "You were right. We have always been honest with each other. To a fault, sometimes, and I was not. I once asked if it would always be perfect and you said it would be perfect in different ways and I wanted to assume this was just me, struggling with something, but -"

"We are a partnership, a team." Minerva picked at her fingers, something Hermione had only seen her do infrequently since they'd been together.

"I'm sorry," they said to each other in unison.

Hermione smiled and opened her arms. Minerva practically threw herself into them and after a little wrestling with the covers, they lay entwined with each other in a way that made Hermione's residual sadness melt away.

"I love you," Minerva whispered against her neck. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

"Don't," Hermione shook her head. "Please don't. Let's," she gathered Minerva's curls up in her hands and watched as they fell this way and that. "Let's agree that we both made mistakes and begin anew. From this moment on." Minerva went to argue but Hermione kissed her instead. "I could have asked Mum to stay. Or I could have spoken to Lucy or Ginny. I isolated myself, for fear of looking like a failure." She scoffed. "These babies are our greatest achievement and I didn't want to fail."

"You love them," Minerva whispered, leaning up, on her elbow, so she could look at Hermione properly. "You could not fail them, because you love them."

"I promise to talk to you about things that I'm struggling with," Hermione said softly. "I promise to always come back," she echoed words they'd spoken so long ago. "To here," she added, her fingertips brushing over the skin above Minerva's heart. Her thumb lingered on one of the circular scars as she remembered almost losing Minerva before she was even hers.

"I promise that I will never leave you again. Physically or emotionally or mentally."

"Deal," Hermione smiled, feeling lighter already.

They lay like that for a while, before Hermione felt Minerva's lips caress the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

"Minerva," Hermione chuckled.

"Just reminding you of the things I feel for you."

"I know exactly the things you feel for me," Hermione smirked. "It happens to be quite similar to what I feel for you."

"Quite?" Minerva asked, aghast.

Hermione laughed for the first time in a long time and leaned up, capturing Minerva's lips with her own. Deciding she didn't care whether they had to be awake in a few hours. She had missed this. Hermione slid her tongue between Minerva's and started unbuttoning the tartan sleep shirt Minerva preferred in winter.

The noises Minerva made under Hermione's ministrations sent shivers down her spine and she lost patience with the pace her fingers moved at.

She whispered a spell that left them both bare and moaned salaciously as Minerva's body pressed against hers. Minerva's hands were not idle but Hermione wanted this more. She wrapped her leg around Minerva's hip and pushed Minerva sideways, rolling them over and ending up leaning over Minerva, with her hair to one side, her centre pressing against Minerva's stomach.

Minerva's hands were clenching at her sides, as they had always done at the prospect of touching Hermione's body. Hermione caught them and kissed her palms before entwining their fingers and placing them above Minerva's head.

"Love," Minerva gasped as Hermione rolled her hips.

Hermione kissed her deeply, her tongue sliding along Minerva's in a dance they had perfected countless years ago. Minerva tried to lead, as Hermione had let her so often, but she pulled back, smirking. 

"Tonight is mine," Hermione whispered. 

In the soft light from the bathroom, she saw Minerva's eyes darken. She pressed kisses along Minerva's jaw, allowing her to arch her neck. She sucked possessively on that spot over her pulse and then bit down on the tendon straining above her clavicle.

"Urgh," Minerva grunted, her legs dropping open. 

"Eager?" Hermione whispered.

"I've missed you so."

"How much," Hermione asked, feeling naughty. "How much have you missed me, lover?"

Minerva couldn't speak as Hermione's nipples brushed Minerva's. She felt the trembling muscles beneath her thighs and kissed beneath Minerva's chin and slid her hands down Minerva's arms as she slid down her body.

She watched as Minerva's nipples hardened further under her gaze and she drew circles around one with her tongue.

"Oh fuck," Minerva breathed. Hermione smiled as she pulled that same nipple between her lips. She loved making Minerva lose her decorum. When they first started making love and had all the energy and all the time, she would make a game of it. Trying to make Minerva break became her favourite pastime and it was only a little surprising to see her give in so early.

"I've missed you," Hermione muttered against sinfully soft skin. "In our bed, beneath my lips."

She raked her fingernails down Minerva's ribs softly and smirked as her hips bucked. There was something so sensual about making Minerva writhe and she could feel herself painting the skin below Minerva's belly button.

"Love," Minerva muttered. "Please."

Hermione sucked hard on the other nipple and forgave Minerva for forgetting that her hands were supposed to stay above her head. Strong fingers gripped her hair and she moaned when they pulled.

"Kiss me," she mumbled. Hermione did and let her fingers meander down to Minerva's hip and then between them.

"You're soaked," she muttered before Minerva plundered her mouth.

Hermione slid her fingers between Minerva's lips, sliding over to straddle Minerva's thigh for better leverage. The strong muscles helped with the pressure and she was the one to groan now as Minerva pushed up against her.

She circled Minerva's clit for a short while but they needed no preamble. She slid her fingers inside, deep into Minerva and groaned as Minerva fell into orgasm immediately. The clenching around her fingers went straight to her own body and she rocked in time with Minerva as she sought more pleasure.

Knowing she might never be done, she slid her fingers in and out, using her knee on the back of her hand to press even closer. Minerva's hands, which had been gripping the bedsheets, went to Hermione's hips and she held on tightly as they rocked together.

As she heard Minerva's breath change, her own body rejoiced in having her lover back home and Minerva jerked up pressing suddenly right where Hermione needed it.

"Minerva!"

She squealed as their rhythm fell and their body's basic needs took over. She rocked quickly against Minerva's thigh and used the motion to help tip Minerva into another. Hermione threw her head back as her body replied, covering Minerva's thigh with their love.

She fell onto Minerva's chest, breathing hard and listened to Minerva's heart thump wildly on her chest. As it slowed, Hermione looked up into wild eyes.

"My turn," Minerva growled.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hello all, hope you're all having a lovely day. Only one more after this #sadface. Guess I'll have to write something else pretty soon huh.**   
>  **As always, thanks to the lovely Lib McGranger for her help in making this as lovely as possible lol**
> 
> -0-

Whatever Hermione thought might happen next, paled in comparison. Minerva did not waste any time in showing Hermione just how much she had been missed.

Minerva's hands seemed to be everywhere, but it was her lips that showed Hermione the way. Starting at her temples, Minerva pressed soft and reverent kisses against her skin.

"Your brain is one of the things I love most about you," she murmured. "The way you think, the way you learn, the way you teach. It is what I fell in love with first and what I thank Merlin for every day."

Minerva talking while they made love was not new, she did so sparingly. Hermione had never asked her to, but especially in the beginning, she had asked for reassurance at every turn. Minerva, though usually a fast learner, had eventually understood her desire for it, without ever having to be asked explicitly.

"Your eyes capture my soul at every turn," Minerva continued, kissing the closed eyelids. "They hold such wisdom and mirth and show no signs of a life that was hard-fought and won."

A tear squeezed out between Hermione's lids as their bodies pressed together.

"Your mouth sets my soul aflame. Such a simple thing -" She was speaking almost to herself but Hermione hung onto every word. "It speaks so eloquently of your thoughts and desires. It commands people to your whims and drops others," Minerva's eyes met hers. "To their knees."

Her lips tingled endlessly as Minerva kissed her so beautifully, more tears slipped from her eyes.

"And with those lips and that tongue and those teeth you tore my world asunder," Minerva muttered, holding Hermione's face in her hands. Hermione could do nothing but follow Minerva's tongue around her own mouth to Minerva's and back again. That wicked tongue that could cut someone to size with a single word or enflame Hermione's every nerve as she did now.

"Oh, and these," Minerva murmured. Hermione gasped as Minerva flicked her nipples gently. "That have nurtured this family so well." She hummed as she settled in, suckling rhythmically in time with the pinching she gave on the opposite one. Hermione growled and wrapped a leg around Minerva's middle. Hermione felt the tightening in her middle and grabbed the back of Minerva's head to keep her there. Minerva didn't stop like Hermione was terrified she might. Instead, she sucked harder and longer, making Hermione keen as she came.

As Hermione came down from her high, she felt Minerva move a little higher and dropped a kiss to her chest, where her heart was thumping uncontrollably. As she panted and tried not to burst into tears, Minerva cupped her cheek and their eyes met.

"Your brain is what I fell for, but your heart is what I yearn for," she said evenly. "You have loved me far better than I thought I ever deserved. You have given me happiness beyond measure, Hermione. You have brought my soul home in a way that I never thought possible. I love you, not because you have given me a family, not because we have been together for so long, but because, Hermione, I _love_ you."

She didn't bother to fight the tears any longer and she sobbed as Minerva nuzzled her ear and whispered more sweet words into her soul while she slid her hand over her belly. Dropping a kiss against a tear that rolled over her cheek, Minerva followed her hand's path with her lips. Three children - two at one time - had stretched Hermione's skin and made it impossible for it to ever return to where it had once been. Intellectually, she knew it was a privilege to have done so, but it still bothered her when she caught her reflection in the mirror.

"This body made my children, our children, in our image and yet their own. You carried them so beautifully." Minerva whispered. "Watching you blossom with our babies sent me into a spin I did not want to come out of. The way you grew set my body and soul on fire."

That was news, but Hermione could barely keep up as Minerva's teeth raked across the roundness of her belly and sucked hard, marking her. It was primal and she jerked up into Minerva's body in need.

"I loved seeing you pregnant. Loved playing with our babies inside of you. Loved rubbing your back and your feet and washing your hair. I loved the way you loved them; soothing their grumbles as they kicked and squirmed and singing to them when you thought I wasn't looking. Your legs, which carry you so proudly, even when you are tired. That carry our family and keep them steady while I am off doing other selfish things. That wrap around me when you are," she paused as Hermione did just that. "Needy."

Minerva's voice had dropped to a gravelly burr and Hermione's centre twitched at the sound.

"Min, please my love," Hermione whispered, around a sob. "Please."

"Say my name, Hermione," Minerva said, her breath hot on her wet centre. "Say it."

"Minerva," Hermione groaned, feeling her hot tongue sliding inside her. "MINERVA!"

She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak anymore. Minerva loved her so deeply she couldn't even see. She lost track of how many times she broke apart under Minerva's tongue. And then, she was there, hovering above Hermione speaking gentle words of love. Long fingers curled against her and she gasped, her hearing coming back in a rush.

"I love you," Minerva whispered. "Let me love you, Hermione. Let go, my love."

It was enough and Hermione screamed, her voice breaking as she snapped. Her back bowed and her body trembled as she grasped hold of Minerva and let her body dictate everything.

"You are my heart, Hermione Granger. I love you. I have always loved you. I _will_ always love you."

She sobbed, clutching Minerva to her and refusing to let go. Minerva gathered her up and rolled them so she could hold Hermione to her as she came down. Hermione cried against Minerva's neck as Minerva sank her damp fingers into knotted hair.

"I have you, my love. I have you."

Hermione eventually calmed and she hid beneath Minerva's hair, breathing her scent in and taking comfort from strong arms around her.

"I love you, Minerva," she whispered, eventually. "I love you so much."

"Will you let me take care of you?" Minerva whispered. "Let me draw you a bath?"

Hermione nodded mutely and she smiled a wobbly smile as Minerva ran her a bath and came back for her after. Hermione was so tired she could barely stand, but Minerva bent a little and swung Hermione up into her arms.

"I'm heavy," Hermione whispered.

"No," Minerva muttered. "You are not. You have never been."

Hermione didn't have the energy to argue and she groaned as her tired body was placed slowly into the water. As before, Minerva washed her gently and after, drew her from the water into a soft, warm towel and eased her into equally soft pyjamas. Hermione was so overwhelmed with feelings that she could only cling to Minerva until she was tucked into clean sheets. Minerva pottered for a few more moments, dousing the lights and cracking the door in case the children needed them.

"You are the only thing in my life," Minerva muttered as she got in. Hermione rolled back into her chest. "The only things that matter are here, in this house. In our home. You and our babies."

Hermione sighed and opened her mouth to speak, but another voice stopped her.

"Mama?"

"Come here little love," Minerva's soft chuckle called, inviting their daughter into her arms.

"Mummy," Cat breathed as she clambered up onto the bed with her little hands. "Mama."

"The Mamas are here, baby," Minerva said, in the tone that she reserved only for the children. "Sleep, little one."

Hermione chuckled as Cat snuggled on top of Minerva and under Hermione's arm. As she had done since she was born, she reached up and played with Minerva's curls while she sucked her thumb and sighed happily.

"I am sorry I lost sight of this," Minerva whispered, her fingers dragging along Hermione's shoulder. "I shan't do so again."

"I'm sorry that I lost sight of you," Hermione whispered, finding her voice. "And that I let my hubris nearly destroy everything."

"You didn't," Minerva muttered, her lips caressing Hermione's forehead. "And you aren't, but let us agree to let this go now?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Start anew?"

"Refreshed," Minerva suggested. "There is too much love between us to begin again."

Hermione nodded and lay watching Minerva soothe their daughter. I brought to mind something else.

"I didn't know that you felt that about me," Hermione breathed. "When I was pregnant."

"I was embarrassed at how much it affected me. I," she blushed. "May have been thinking of that, the night we made Eòghan."

Hermione snorted quietly and pressed a kiss to Minerva's shoulder.

"Poppy suggested that we perhaps should not have another," Hermione said sadly, meeting Minerva's eyes as she looked down at her. "But I would try again, for you?"

"Not at the expense of your health, love," Minerva shook her head, though she too had sadness in her eyes.

"We could try?"

"I -"

"Think about it," Hermione offered around a yawn. "Talk to Poppy. Eòghan's pregnancy was easy. I believe it would be alright." She chuckled and soothed Cat's frown with her thumb. "Nothing could be worse than what happened with them."

"That was the scariest moment of my life."

"I -"

"I have fought mass-murderers, dodged killing curses and defended my family with deadly consequences but seeing the fear in Poppy's eyes while your blood stained my hands." A shudder when through her, disturbing Cat. "It nearly killed me."

"I'm right here," Hermione soothed both of them.

"Yes," Minerva sighed, kissing Hermione's hair and then Cat's as well. "And so are they."

"Would you spend New Year's with me?" Hermione asked, tracing Minerva's nose. "Let Mum or Poppy take the kids?"

"Yes," Minerva sighed. "I would like that."

"Good," Hermione murmured. "Sleep now."

"In a moment, I hear a mouse in the hall," Minerva chuckled, but Hermione was already on her way when another voice asked for her quietly. Alex threw himself onto the bed. Hermione smiled at his excitement as she dropped off to sleep, and sighed into his hair as he burrowed between them with a giggle.

"I promise," she muttered, reaffirming what they had already spoken.

"And I promise you," Minerva muttered, entwining their fingers. "Sleep love."

"Wake me tomorrow?"

"I will."

"Happy Christmas," Hermione whispered.

"Happy Christmas, my love."


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: And here we are at the end, my lovelies. What a lovely little journey we've been on. Thank you all for joining us.**   
>  **And, Thank you to Lib McGranger for making this as awesome as it had been and for pushing me to finish it and post it.**
> 
> -0-

Christmas had been everything that Hermione had missed since they had fallen out of sync. Minerva was present and engaged but allowed Hermione time as well, especially after their long, emotional night. Minerva had made sure to include her in their games and brought her tea and corralled the twins when they were at their most rambunctious. It was, perhaps, the nicest Christmas that Hermione had enjoyed in a while.

As in other years, their Christmas tree rivalled the one in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. When lit, it brightened the entire library. Hermione sat on their new sofa while she sipped her tea slowly. The new furniture had Minerva waxing lyrical for a good while as she saw what it was capable of, without the use of magic. Hermione had been glad of the approval and made quiet plans to christen it properly after the children were asleep. In the meantime, however, she laughed as she watched Minerva trying to control the twins and stop them from literally diving right into the enormous pile of presents.

The unwrapping was perhaps the twins' favourite thing in all the world. In previous years, they'd just ripped the paper off any present that was put in front of them. However, it seemed that with their added year, came a little added emotional intelligence. In fact, Hermione had taken quite a few photographs of Minerva sharing her unwrapping with Cat and of Alex sitting with Eòghan between his little legs, helping him unwrap his little presents as well. Not that Eòghan could unwrap anything, but Alex had fun moving his hands across the paper and anything Alex did, his little brother loved. The twins had bikes that were summarily carried downstairs and out of the house after they nearly went into the bookshelves. Eòghan had a new box of blocks and Minerva left them playing together while she crawled onto the sectional and settled between Hermione's thighs.

"One for you, my love?"

Hermione slid off the ribbon and opened the little box, staring at the contents.

"I thought these were -"

"You didn't think I'd forgotten, did you?"

"But -"

Minerva smirked at her and Hermione realised how blind she had been.

"I love you," Hermione mumbled, cupping Minerva's chin and kissing her. "I cannot believe you got tickets to this lecture!"

"I did have to call in a few favours," she chuckled. "But," she smiled, producing an envelope from mid-air. "It's a two-part-er."

"Min, I," she blushed. "Your present isn't anything -"

"My presents are all around us love. And I got my present last night and if I'm lucky this afternoon and -"

"Hush," Hermione blushed. "You're incorrigible."

"You set my soul on fire, Hermione Granger, it's only natural for me to want to explore you at every moment."

Hermione bit back a smile and turned back to the envelope. Inside was a brochure for a hotel in -

"Florence!" Hermione squeaked. "Florence?"

"I know you'd like to go back, and I have already asked Jenny if she will have the twins. Poppy said she'd take Eòghan."

Hermione was floored.

"When?"

"The night after the lecture. Ten days."

Hermione gathered Minerva into her arms and kissed her deeply.

"I don't even want to give you the present I got for you. It's pathetic. I'm getting you something else."

"I don't need anything," Minerva reiterated. "I have you four. But, I also want you to find something to occupy your time, other than the children. We have both made mistakes, we both got caught up in what we were doing. We're going to do better though. You have looked after the tiny children better than anyone I know, but it's time to get back to who we are. Find a project to champion, a charity, whatever you want. Paid or not, you know we don't need the money. Whatever it is, love, we will make it work. And if you need a break, call on us. All of us. Any of us."

"I will," Hermione breathed. "I promise. I," she sighed bashfully. "Have a few things in mind that I've been following."

"I can't wait to see your brilliance in action again. The world has been darker for it."

Hermione made a face but at that moment, Alex got their attention.

"Mama, Eòghan is stinky."

Hermione nearly groaned at the prospect of the job, but Minerva chuckled and kissed Hermione once more before getting up energetically. She swung the baby into the air and turned back to Hermione with a wink.

"I mean it. The world misses you, Hermione. I, for one, can't wait to stand beside you and watch you fly."

She strode off to the bedroom without a single complaint and Hermione was left breathless at those words. She stared at her hands for a long time before she remembered they had eight whole weeks of Minerva, all to themselves.

"Right," she said, turning to the twins with renewed excitement. "What are we building?"

They had played until they could play no more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the kids dropped like flies into exhausted naps. Hermione sat in Minerva's arms, tucked in the window talking about what they might do in their next eight weeks and about Florence and very carefully dared to dream of the future. They talked like they had in the beginning. Of chances they might take. Of things they might read. Of new things. Of togetherness.

And they reaffirmed their love once more when Eòghan fell asleep. They left the three kids tucked under blankets in the library and escaped to their room. Christening the sofa would wait. After a shower and another round of loving under the water, the twins came looking for then and family life resumed.

Eventually, as the evening drew nearer, Hermione was more than happy to see Minerva and the twins go for a walk to watch the fairies emerge. She and Eòghan lazed in the library together, one on one, and she felt everything slowly but surely, click back into place.

-0-

Boxing day brought a quiet morning as Hermione woke before the rest of their Clann and got up to enjoy the time on her own. 

"Good morning," Minerva whispered sometime later, wrapping her arms around Hermione's middle.

"Good morning," Hermione sighed, leaning back against her. "How did you sleep?"

"Very deeply," Minerva chuckled. "As you well know. How did we make it to bed?"

"With the proper leverage," Hermione smirked over her shoulder. "Everything is possible. You surely didn't imagine that you could do what you did to me Christmas Eve and get away scot-free? My beautiful Scot?"

"That was a poor attempt at humour, even for you," Minerva laughed, though she nibbled on Hermione's shoulder.

"After all these years, I'm still not very good at it."

"I disagree," Minerva mumbled. "With exceptions."

Hermione reached round and squeezed Minerva's backside.

"Tea, then?" she grinned.

"Yes please."

Hermione poured and gave Minerva a cup, sliding their hands together and following her up to the library. She aimed for the sofa, but Minerva redirected them and she ended up where they always did in their window seat, Hermione settled across Minerva's lap, enjoying the quiet.

"What time is everyone coming?"

"Two I think," Hermione shrugged, twirling Minerva's hair around her fingers. "Doesn't matter. Dinner is at six. They all know that."

"Are Ron and Kelly coming?"

"Oh," Hermione shook her head. "No, sorry I meant to tell you. They're going to Kelly's parents. I said we'd see them in the New Year."

"The usual crowd then," Minerva smiled. "Ooh, don't tell Lucy, but Adie has a girlfriend," she whispered conspiratorially. "She's in the year above but they are utterly adorable. She's incredibly polite and very bright," she grinned. "I've already introduced myself as Aunt Minerva."

"Poor girl," Hermione chuckled, tracing Minerva's ear. At some point, she'd put in her new stud from Adie - a cat that seemed to be walking through her ear. Minerva thought it was hilarious.

"I just wanted her to know where things stood."

"Mhmm," Hermione smiled, kissing her softly. "Lucy will be fine with it, no?"

"Of course she will," Minerva snorted. "I think Adie is enjoying her space, no doubt how Lucy now enjoys hers as well."

"I'm glad I have you," Hermione whispered, imagining the opposite. "I know," she placed her finger over Minerva's lips as she went to speak. "I know I _could_ have done this without you. Things would have been very different, of course. But I'm glad I don't have to, I am happy, Min. And watching you care for the children of our lives is rather delightful, you know."

" _Rather delightful_?"

"Alright," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Downright sexy. Probably in the same way you feel about me," she smirked. "With child."

"That's better," Minerva smirked. Hermione shook her head and kissed Minerva instead. "I will have to be in the kitchen for a long time," Minerva continued eventually. "Will you be alright?"

"I don't want, or even need, to be apart from our children, Min," Hermione smiled. "I just need some support. Which you have, you _are_ giving me. In spades! And everyone else will be here, I probably won't even see them until we eat," she chuckled.

"Well then maybe we should find some time for us as well," Minerva suggested and banished her mug to the kitchen. She pulled Hermione closer just as Eòghan announced he was awake. "Saved by the babe," Minerva snorted, nuzzling under Hermione's chin.

"You are insatiable, Minerva McGonagall.

"I will never get enough of you, Hermione Granger."

They kissed languidly until Eòghan insisted.

"I shall get him," Minerva muttered against her lips.

"You wait here," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I will bring your little prince to you. Then perhaps I will attempt a trifle while they are not underfoot."

"Ooh, I can't wait," Minerva said gleefully. "I remember a time when you insisted you couldn't cook. And look where we are now. You are very good at things that aren't easy to set on fire."

Hermione turned around, scandalised but Minerva just chuckled and pinched her backside before she walked away.

-0-

It was Harry that came to her first, before dinner, while she was deciding how the room was best set up with so many guests. She could hear Ginny and Lucy wrangling most of the children upstairs and she could hear little Lily in the kitchen - probably settled in her favourite spot: standing in front of her Aunt Minerva's body while they cooked together. Poppy and Will were arguing good-naturedly with each other about something or other while they sat at the breakfast table, probably while sipping on a glass of red, with Minerva chiming in on occasion.

"Hey there," Harry said, as she set out the cutlery in the formal dining room.

"Hi," she smiled genuinely. "How are you?"

"Fine," he shrugged. "How are _you_?"

Hermione stopped and looked up at him, softening as she saw the worry.

"I'm fine," she nodded. "I wasn't," she admitted. "I -" she sighed."I am now."

"You could have asked for help."

"I know," Hermione nodded. "I was so," she groaned. "Do you ever feel like you need to be better at everything you do, because of who we are?"

"Yes," Harry said easily. "And I nearly always fall flat on my arse."

Hermione snorted and walked around the table to hug him tightly. 

"I'm not very good at that," she chuckled. "Admitting I need help. But I am ok. We talked and things are going to get better. They already have."

"You're sure?"

"I promise. She wants to tell everyone at dinner, but our lives are going to change again."

"Are you pregnant again?"

"No," she chuckled. "Nothing like that. Just moving to a different phase, I guess. I'm going to get a job or something, she has something planned as well."

Harry opened his mouth to ask, but they were saved by her beautifully precocious daughter.

"Unc'a Hawwy!"

"Yes, Kitty Cat?"

"Quidditch!"

"Quidditch?" Hermione interrupted, wide-eyed. "In our library?"

Cat giggled and Hermione scooped her up and pretended munch on her belly to riotous giggles. 

"You tell Aunty Lucy and Aunty Ginny that if anything gets damaged, especially my nice new sofa, Mummy is going to be very upset."

Cat giggled evilly.

"Bloody hell, she's definitely related to the both of you," Harry groaned. He opened his arms and Hermione rolled her daughter into them and waved as they walked away. 

Two strong arms encircled her, resting over her belly button.

"Maybe once I'm retired, I'll find a way to keep you barefoot and pregnant for the rest of our lives."

Hermione laughed and turned her head to kiss her lover.

"I told you, I'm not opposed," Hermione shrugged. "In a year or so? Did you speak to Poppy?"

"No, I was teasing. And I am not worried. I think once you get back out there, you'll get busy and change your mind," she cupped Hermione's cheek. "And I will not be sad about it. We have everything we need."

"We do," she whispered, cupping Minerva's cheek over her shoulder. "One more wouldn't make too much difference, though?"

"You seem suddenly much keener than you were when we found out about Eòghan?"

"I was not unhappy about Eòghan," Hermione clarified. "Perhaps a little concerned. But after such an easy pregnancy and," she smirked. "Now I am seeing things with new eyes, as it were," she muttered, making Minerva chuckle. 

"Is that right?"

"Mhmm."

"Next New Year, afterwards, we can discuss it again. How about that?" Minerva asked. "The children will be little people, you will be elbow deep in your latest research paper, no doubt and I'll be," she thought about it. "Trimming bonsai trees."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed.

"You're hopeless."

"Alright, maybe I'll be coaching the Little Snitches."

"My children will not be beaters," Hermione growled. "So you had better get that out of your head, right now."

It was Minerva's turn to laugh this time and she pulled Hermione in and rocked them to a beat that Hermione could not hear.

"What do you think of a movie night in the garden after dinner? We could set up a tent and use a projector? Do your parents still have theirs?"

"I don't know," Hermione snorted. "You'd know better than me, but they'll be here in," she pulled Minerva's arm closer to her face. "Twenty minutes."

They both paused, seeing Minerva's grandmother's watch beside a blood-red ribbon. They replaced them every year before Minerva went to Hogwarts and Minerva didn't know, but Hermione kept every one of them in a box beneath their bed.

"Can you imagine how good our life is going to be, if this is the beginning," Minerva muttered.

Hermione sighed happily, running her thumb over the ribbon and feeling the corresponding shiver as Minerva pressed her front against Hermione's back again. Even after so long, it still gave her a thrill when it happened, but she knew now was neither the time nor the place to get Minerva worked up, _again_. Instead, Hermione slid their fingers together and relaxed against her lover's chest as she absently twisted Minerva's rings on her fingers. It was a habit she'd picked up somewhere along the way. It had started as a nervous tic but had developed into one of comfort, especially as Minerva became a lot less strict with her appearance. She regularly wore her rings these days and more than one student had stopped and stared when she'd arrived at Hogwarts in January of 1999 wearing a silver hoop in the top of her ear as well. It had tickled most of the staff immensely.

"I want you to have something," Minerva muttered, capturing Hermione's fingers between her own. She slipped a ring from her finger, Hermione's favourite; the delicate loop of intertwining vines and leaves. Minerva rolled it between her thumb and index finger before she caught Hermione's left hand and slid it on her ring finger. "I know we've spoken about this, and that between us we are unbothered by old-fashioned, archaic ceremonies. But that doesn't mean that your finger should be bare."

"Min," Hermione gasped as she understood. "That's your favourite!"

"But so are you," Minerva insisted. "And I adore seeing you in it." There was a pause before she spoke again. "And I quite like the idea of people knowing you're mine."

Hermione turned again and wrapped her arms around Minerva's neck.

"Is that right," Hermione chuckled, kissing her appreciatively. "As if people can't tell by the army of mini-Mins we have between us."

Minerva laughed and picked Hermione up, spinning her around.

"There's my woman."

A loud crash from above bought their time to a close as Minerva rolled her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered before running up the stairs with her Professor McGonagall voice calling for order.

Hermione chuckled to herself as she flicked her hand and sent the rest of the plates to their respective settings. And it wasn't long before she returned to the kitchen to find Poppy, and a glass of wine, waiting for her.

"I'm fine," she sighed, seeing Poppy's look.

"I shall be the judge of that," she smirked. "Sit, or I'll turn Will on you."

Hermione smiled.

"Where is he?"

"He took Eòghan for a walk," Poppy said sternly. "Sit." Hermione laughed and joined her sister-in-law at the table. She sipped her wine and smiled as Poppy looked her over. "You do look better."

"I am. I spoke to Minerva already. We," she sighed, turning her glass. "Spoke truth."

"Good," Poppy smiled. "I was worried."

"I heard," Hermione smirked. She reached across and took Poppy's hand. "Thank you," she whispered. "For telling her. I," she sighed. "Could not find the words."

"That is what family does, Hermione," Poppy said gently. "And we are, _all_ of us, family now. Surely you know that?"

"I do," she nodded. "I really do."

"GAMMY!"

"Oof," Poppy muttered as Cat crashed into her middle. Despite the fact that Poppy was only as old as her mother, Cat had latched onto her cousin Adie with a vengeance and anything Adie did, Cat did too, even with the twelve-year age gap. And so, Poppy had become Gammy and Will, Gramps, just like Adie. Hermione was sure nobody minded. In fact, she quite thought it tickled Min to hear her children call her sister-in-law Grandma.

"Be on wi'cha," Poppy muttered as she got up, poking Hermione in the arm. "I know what you McGonagall women think about them calling us that," she grinned.

Hermione chuckled and sat back, enjoying the quiet for a moment when the Floo activated. Rolling her eyes at her parents' timing, she got up and met them as they emerged.

"Goodness," Jenny hugged, dusting off her clothes. "I'm not sure it gets any easier."

"You love it really," Hermione said, waving her hand and removing the soot. "Dad on his way?"

"Yes," she nodded, turning to look. "Unless he's fallen out somewhere?"

It had happened before, but Hermione waited a beat before getting worried. As assumed, her dad emerged from the flames with a massive grin and soot all over his face.

"I'm pretty sure I saw someone having a very lurid party," he said, wiping his eyes. "Hiya peanut!"

"Hiya, Dad."

"Everyone upstairs?" he muttered, holding up a bag as Hermione banished the spot from him too. "I bought the projector. Min called."

"Oh did she?" Hermione said, wondering when she'd found the time to do so. "Good. We'll set it up later, just leave it by the door." She smiled as he left in search of Will and turned back to her mum and found her looking at her sideways.

"Not you too?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Jenny smirked. "Other than if you are referring to the wonderful coffee date I had with Poppy and Lucy last week?"

"Urgh," Hermione sighed, wrapping her arm in her mother's and walking her to the kitchen. "I take it you want wine?"

"Please," Jenny grinned. "So?"

"So, she came home and we talked. Properly." Hermione shrugged and handed over the wine. "It's like you said, right at the beginning. Honesty will get you through all of the other stuff. I had forgotten while I had so much _other stuff_ to deal with."

Jenny hummed around her wine. Hermione rolled her eyes again.

"Well, I'm glad you have worked it out. Now, get on up there and go play with your family. I'll watch the food. Lord knows Min won't let anyone else do it."

Hermione chuckled and hugged her mum tightly for a moment before stepping back.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For pushing me. Then and now."

"Who knew my telling you to go home to your love would have achieved all this, hey?" she chuckled.

"You're not taking credit for the leagues of family we all now have, are you?"

"You know what?" Jenny said introspectively. "I think I might be."

"I -"

"MAMA!"

Jenny pulled her into a hug and squeezed her gently. 

"Go. Mama is wanted," Hermione turned then glanced back at her. Jenny smiled and took her hand. "Mama can be just as exciting as Mummy, she's just been tired for a long time. Go and show them why Min fell in love with you; why we have all fallen in love with you, over and over, my beautiful daughter."

"I -"

Hermione stared at her mother and realised just how right she was. She'd put herself away when the twins were born. To heal and to enjoy them as babies. But then, she'd done so again, even more so, when Eòghan came along. It was time to change that. It was time to find Hermione Granger again, separate from Mama. 

"I love you, Mum," Hermione said, hugging her again.

"I love you too. Go," Jenny ordered. "Between your dad this morning and this lot mobbing me in a while, I'll enjoy my wine in peace."

Hermione ran up the stairs and found Minerva, Ginny, Harry and Lucy looking sheepish as Poppy cradled Alex in her arms, smoothing paste on a red mark on his forehead and wiping his tears. The rest of the kids crowded around them, offering their Aunty Poppy words of pointless encouragement. Hermione glanced at Minerva who bit her lip and nodded to Harry, who looked terrified for a moment and pointed at Ginny, who laughed and wrapped her arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Why don't we take this outside," Hermione said finally. "That way we can _all_ play and nobody will damage my library."

The kids, including Alex, scrambled down the stairs and out of the front door calling their hellos to their Nanna Jenny as they went.

"You are all doing dishes," Hermione quipped, before hugging Lucy hello and linking her arm with Ginny. They followed the children out of the house as Will, Eòghan and her dad met them by the front door.

Poppy gathered the coats and hats and scarves and handed them out to all the children before taking the baby.

"Go on," Poppy told her husband with a smile. "Off you go. Jenny, Eòghan and I will hold down the fort."

Hermione watched Will kiss her and run after the little children like he was barely older than her, let alone a few years younger than Minerva. It wasn't long before he had James on his back and Alex on his front while Albus stood on Will's toes as he stomped around the garden like a troll.

"You're alright, right?" Ginny asked once they were outside. "I've been avoiding asking cos," she looked around. "I doubted I'd be the only one."

"I'm fine," Hermione smiled, watching Minerva race after Adie and swing her around like she was much younger than the 15-year-old-going-on-18-year-old that she was. Adie didn't see to mind. "Really. And yes, everyone else has also asked."

"We love you," Ginny smiled. "All of your family do."

"I know," Hermione grinned. "It's," she sighed, looking out over her beloved mountains. They'd floated the idea of moving occasionally, but this was her haven. This was _their_ home. "Sometimes I'm that only child in a new world full of magic," she glanced at her best friend. "You know?"

"Thinking you know everything, but finding the opposite to be true?" Ginny laughed. "I was like that after Albus. Thankfully," she glanced at Harry who had Cat on the front of his broom. "I snapped much earlier than you. And then we had Lily," she chuckled. 

"The idea has been proposed," Hermione grinned wryly. "Though we're not talking about it for another year or so. Poppy has said it is ill-advised."

"I think Poppy loves to fuss," Ginny chuckled. 

Hermione laughed as Ginny dragged Hermione closer so she could join in the slower, somewhat safer version of Quidditch that they played to include all the little ones. Ginny moved to help Lily onto a broom while Hermione watched the boys come racing in to join them.

"Minerva McGonagall," she said without turning, her tone made everyone stop in their tracks. "Put that bludger back in the box."

"I was only -"

Hermione looked at her now, her eyebrow hitching as all of the children - and quite a few of the adults - dissolved into laughter. Minerva rolled her eyes and did as she was told and threw the Quaffle to Harry as she walked back to them.

"I love you," Minerva muttered, pulling Hermione in and kissing her hair. "You okay?"

"Yep," Hermione beamed. "I am. And I love you."

"You promise?" Minerva asked, cupping her cheek and kissing her sweetly before they got interrupted.

"I promise."

_Fin_


End file.
